electricity is edible. especially in a tiny dark sushi joint in the east village. especially when the person sitting across from you is better than your already wonderful expectations. especially when you pretend you're on a date with each other. especially when you are an electricity addict.

new york new york, how very cement you are. how very filled with art and sex and the infinite spaces of potential. how very welcoming you have been to me this home-coming.

if i can make it here...

holy shit. i just saw my mother. i haven't seen her in over a year. i ordered 2 scotch and soda's. hey kristi, i am buzz-o-rama. for you, always for you. and i am going to see PREFUSE 73 with habbit. how fucking lucky am i?

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