Poetics at its not so finest.

4pm
I sit here in Union Square on the scarce grass to check my email, as the ground trembles beneath me. The smell of the park is fresh, unlike the scent of the subway stop, and wafting stench passes into my olfactory. I enjoy my late start, after a night of binge drinking and smoking, which leaves my senses and thoughts dampened. I arrive and sit down for a cigarette in battery park, and become irritated by the tourists, but this is unfair because I am one myself. I imagine if I moved I would plan a date with my (native to NY) girlfriend to go downtown and watch tourists. I find this to be quite entertaining, how they stick out in a crowd as tourists, and they are totally oblivious to the fact.

Today is going to be a short day, I would like to head back to the island, and draw for a good portion of the evening, in my bland bedroom, ignoring my annoying roommate. However, I am not bitter about my situation, and this is because I have realized how much I take for granted in life. When I come back to Calgary I will have a new outlook on a lot of things. One must suffer in order to experience bliss.

8pm. I have now found my way to the Bowrey Poetry Café. This place is pretty awesome for the crowd that comes here. Its like the Roasterie, but with a positive and more energetic twist. An energetic place that inspires creativity.

Here are some artsy things I have been working on. I started drawing on my cigarette cases. So you know, you all have to wait to see my sketchbook when I get back to town. I have to create anticipation somehow.