There is velocity when no one is moving.

A corny girl in emo gear from hot topic who grew up with pop music drops her quote on you:

"You'll say it's really good to see you, you'll say I missed you horribly, you'll say let me carry that and give that to me and you will take the heavy stuff and you will drive the car and I'll look out the window making jokes about the way things are."

A little boy with a worn and beaten helmet that's been passed from father to father is going to be on his big wheel riding full speed down a hill while his grandparents stand out front tracing lines with their feet on the grass. When everyone goes inside for a second, he's gonna look at you and expect you to say something and you'll just stand there, smiling. You have no idea what to say, staples on tongues, eyes on the tiniest of features. You'll imprint the stillness of faces staring at one another, and he'll inquire with his shoulders and brow. If he were older you'd say "I'm just a boy who's in love with your aunt" and he'd accept it but he's too young to get that so you'll say nothing and smile. And he'll finally turn away and ride off. He'll look back as he's riding toward the hill as if to say "whomever you are, just be by my side, ok?" Be sure to follow him as he's not quite able to ask just yet.

While she takes a picture of chopsticks, you're watching her. She's fumbling a camera and her fingers are pointed out in ten different directions. Her nose and mouth are twitching in ways no one sees. "Fuck fear," she wrote in an email (and you'll see it in the way she removes her black dress later in the evening). You lean in and inquire with shoulders and brow not paying attention to the picture at hand. You've never agreed more as she passes back the camera and feels her head coming on strong, says nothing, but knows you know.

Holding and the vinyl behind glass.

This photo was taken seven years ago while walking along Newbury street in Boston. I remember having my Nikon slung over my shoulder and eating Reeces Pieces. I remember walking away from it saying to myself "I needed that." It was on a flight of stairs reflecting off a broken gate and not one person the entire time I sat there next to the stars noticed them. It was the same day I realized I needed to get out of Boston and that I had no money to do so. Anything else would be embellishing shit. You outgrow cities sometimes *LA, San Diego, Syracuse, San Fran* or its just some hunch that what you're really looking for is in another city and it's a shame when you don't have the means or balls to find it...(When in doubt, move to Vermont for a few months to find some ground with one theatre, one market, one cafe and a bay window overlooking Main street where you'll put your desk and get lost in words for a single winter. Marked as: a very very good move in regard to self-care at that time). In New York, every so often I needed some kind of sign to let me know that I was supposed to be there. It was a splotch from a graffiti mistake, an old Chinese lady calling an NYU student a "stupid yankee," a couple smiling from across benches on the subway observing things that no one else was seeing... These little tiny baby signs would always come without fail right at the time when I questioned that certain something the most. When you need that one picture to pop up in your day for whatever question you have pending, holding, making you knot up and fold into eighths, it'll come.

*What do you do to feel closer to the person you love most? There's a mix tape as yet made by two lovers who figured it all out and put in a cassette, drew images for the case, and typed out the most relevant lyrics on the inside. They ran out into the rain with a little cassette player and two headphones and listened to it immediately, meticulously. They knew they had to as there are moments in all relationships where every doubt gets intertwined into heartstrings and forces two people to find the center*

Comps.

Gone for two weeks...It's Charlie's turn when i'm done...She's yet to move out her Bishops.

Constructions - - Pushing palindromes to the Chagrin of those with the conch.

*People who paint Rorschach inkblots should be given more love* Palindromes as a refresher: racecar, live not on evil, step on no pets, damn I, Agassi, miss again! mad!, Lisa Bonet ate no basil, a man! a plan! a canal! Panama!...This stupid shit is relevant because it forces someone to look at something beyond face value. It's a red herring, yes probably (as is the Kinsey report which will be mentioned in a bit), but nevertheless, its important...Spent the break catching up with some of my past and taking that quote I had mentioned a few blogs ago into serious consideration as to be a little more honest about how I truly feel about being home and/or adjustments to affect/effect. *young men bent on fixing false affections should be cornered and warned of the dangers* Construction is as followed: Take 100 of the most irrelevant of palindromes. Shuffle them into the memory of the kindest, most sincere, most unassuming of young women on their way to attack their 20's. As they mature, have all of them stand in front of Exner at his most productive of years and let him hear their definitions of dysfunction. Let the handful of those with choosing rights (those who think of projective tests as idiotic and too subjective) be schooled alongside the very boys these women give birth to. Nurture the quirkiest of idiosyncrasies and if they ever ask as a child if there are fairies and magic, you kindly say "fuck yeah there are! And you can see them all!"Let the palindromes become stories and sheepish grins for four year olds who will soon enough see Santa as a fraud. With superlatives for these children of mothers who were raised with the idea that juggling, unicycles and sleight of hand were more important than rational logic and conventional choices, put them at work in the most demanding of work environments. Let them march, let them write into the LA times about the Kinsey report in 48' being devoid of any diversity yet the beginning of the largest palindrome to speak of, let them teach swing and art therapy...Today is January 1st, 2008. The piles of books are the only things off limits. It's starting to be that time. There's a 45 year old man in an old green hat he bought one day in Chicago screaming off the rooftop "We're simplifying this mother fucker right here!!!"