a sunny september 11, 2003
I was adopted a long time ago. Spoke to my natural by blood half sister last night for a couple hours.
Though my upbringing was riddled with quasi emotional strife not knowing who I was, where I came from, or seeing anyone with a likeness to my face, things have suddenly taken a turn-around. I used to think trading in my family was the answer to all of my issues, but now I realize that a complete trade-in would require a warranty of sorts. A promise of connections I don’t even think I have the energy to support. Phone, email. I wish I had more time to spend the minutes in the presence of the people I care about, as opposed to the fake-o technological hugs that we depend on to feel whole and emotionally well.
So then there is this issue of rent. Free rent. Paid rent. I might have an apartment on 9th street and Avenue A by next Spring or summer. One bedroom, dirt cheap. All for me.
But ANYWAY, here I am, utilizing the computer at my friend’s house, thinking about fifteen million things.
I gotta edit some pictures. Maybe I will stick one up here or something.
Take the apt. on Ave A…it’s a good area to get/deal drugs…plus, if you’re lonely…there’s always some toothless whore waiting to get fucked up the ass…right?