2001-06-13 - 9:36 p.m.
My apt. is becoming a dungeon, sort of. The bathroom ceiling is leaking ala Chinese water torture, and sometimes bugs crawl on my feet. They're really there. I'm not having detox hallucinations or such. Speaking of detox hallucinations, we were watching this really MESSED UP movie about this junkie girl the other night, and that young boy from 3rd Rock was playing her (I think it was Samantha Mathis, who looks like most intimidatingly pretty girl I went to high school with, who- RANDOMLY, years later, is Shawn's best friend's girlfriend, which means when we all go out drinking I invariably end up sputtering, "GAWD! YER SO PERRTYY!!") pre-teen boyfriend. He was so tiny in it it was just disturbing. Then he dies. (Sorry if I just ruined it for you. It's called like Something Jane. Candy Jane? Something like a Velvet Underground song)
God! Going to run errands "in town" (haha, that's like me living in the sticks upstate and calling going to Schenectady "going to town", like people actually DO) makes me feel so dirty. I hate having to go on the subway after playing in the park for three hours. It's so anticlimactic. And I really hate sitting there surrounded by all my groceries while two people at a time are going car-hopping for money. It makes me feel so evil. I was about to give the one guy my bananas, but then I didn't. Why?
Generic Altruistic Statement: How fucked up is it to ignore people in need the way we do? It's commonplace, it's part of the day to walk by people visibly, vocally, cringingly suffering because we're so caught up in our shopping bags and fancy shoes and lunch breaks. Like our preoccupations make it okay to ignore it. Nobody chooses to suffer, nobody wants to beg for help, nobody is immune from the possibility of befalling suffering. WHY IS IT OK TO IGNORE IT? I'm not being self-righteous, I'm really, really astounded.
I LOVE THE PARK. It's the only place in the city where I don't feel inferior.
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