Follow the Yellow Line:

This is the street.

I lived there for a while.

Breathed there for a while.

Was happy for a while.

This is the street,

in front of my home.

What's left of my home,

before I left my home.

This is the street,

where I grew for a while,

before I followed those lines.

Before I left it behind.

Audience member in the back, "don't quit your day job!"

My San Pellegrino HAS Exploded...

... all over my face.

Had this wild dream last night. Then, I woke up and realized it's been seventeen years of therapy and in the end I still feel the same:

WORTHLESS.

Yet, if wasn't for therapy and doing exercises on how else to "express" myself, there wouldn't be an extensive collection of journals from the hey days of Jackson Heights livings.

The question is do I stop going, or do I stop holding in everything and start reacting?

Hey Sweetheart

Dear NYU froshmen,

It's not kosher to kiss strangers on the street even if you are very handsome. It's how the herps spread and I for one will not take part in the spreading. But thanks for thinking I'm still so young and fresh.

xoxo,
Aileen

Memo to self: The original "NYU-er" had way more sincere game. These kids need to step it up hardcore.