Friday, October 24, 2003

Went out with Pablo last night to hang out with all the argentinians. it's quite a trip. they live in this totally weird neighborhood. definatly doesnt look like the place you'd like to walk around alone, but im sure it's pretty safe. it's just weird cos the streets are really old and narrow, the buildings are low, lots of stores there, but they have metal gates that seal them up, so it just looks really cold. there's 8 or 9 of us in the room. a lot of spanish is spoken. my spanish is for shit, but sometimes i can pick out stuff. we'll talk in hebrew also. i tell a few funny stories. they're a really funny crowd. everyone is very laid back. earlier, pablo had been telling me what weekends are like in madrid. the streets are crowded unitl 5 or 6 in the morning. everyone just stays out all night. goes home, sleep for a few hours, eat, take another nap, then go out again. i need to go live in spain for a while. i'll work on my spanish.

there's a couple of little candles lighting up the room. it doesnt look kitschy though, it looks really natural. there's a lot of smoke in the room. i watch some of it whisp towards me. swimming, twisting around the green and red can of polish beer (it was really black and red, but the light reflecting off the green glass of my bottle of Tuborg makes it look green), moving across the candle flame, and over the broken rubix cube.

the air feels like marshmellow. it's like i'm moving my head through a bag of sand. there's more i wanted to remember, but i've forgotten it. i managed to write down a bunch of stuff before going to bed. i'll try and read my own handwriting:

**I know why they love San Francisco fog. it lets them forget, makes them forget. like tonight. Barely getting up the 3 flights up to home. The cabbie was a normal guy. Decent, but an asshole. He managed to stick with hacking coughing and sneezing. Pablo and I certainly werent up for a chat with this psycho, although once we thought he said something. We just looked at each other, slightly concerned, then went back to our respective windows. Pablo got out. we drove on. the fog magically lifting as i was pulled closer to home. "all the lights," he said, "you have to stop at all the lights." he said it like it was an almighty revelation from a minor god. My eyes felt like they were slowly being glued shut. I still shot him a stupid look, "what are you gonna do?" i bemused in broken Amerikaki english accented hebrew. "huh?"Dumb bald fuck. we kept going. hitting every light on dizingoff. sounds like a dirty fucking word.

The woman had been hailing us down for half a block. Its 4 am lady, you nuts? The buldging driver releases the airlock by his side. "Hey lady, the kids getting out at the corner." Not this corner you fat dick. "where ya going? get in. get in. where ya going?" He sounds like a rapist. Two cabs magically pull up. "There. she's got a cab. Crazy lady. Out alone. Doesnt want a ride? she's crazy. If only something would happen to her." If only something would happen to her, he said. Let me explain this to anyone too feign of heart to think of the truth themselves. "If only something would happen to her." He's hoping, praying something terrible upon this woman. Something arbitrary and vague. Just something. Anything, so long as it's terrible.

The cotton candy fog was aglow in pink and blue from a sealed up internet cafe. what a fucking front. no one in this neighborhood is going to an internet cafe. they dont even distance themselves from strangers when pissing in the street. the whole place is a big fucking urinal. two tough fags walk down the middle of the street. sharing a fag, ironically. i suppose not so much. **


well, none of that really makes any sense, but it's what i wrote at around 4:30 this morning.

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