connecting*the*dots

man
i swear i never get it right
i try to spread the love and instead end up in a fight
complex emotions
unconfirmed notions
spilling into my life
like a river to an ocean
and while i struggle to stack the sandbags high
weathering the storm to get on by
in comes another blow
fucking with my mind
i’m trying not to get upset
i’m even trying to understand
but my life needs to be lived
and i don’t need a helping hand
telling me where i should go
or who i should see
we don’t have it like that
not you and me
but if you change up and are cool
with the fact that i’m me
give me a shout
and i’ll make myself free
for you

Click To Play (by Tao Ruspoli)

alright, i’m definitely not down on that vibe
red devil barbecue grills within the suburban tribe
manicured lawns, thirty piece china sets
garbage disposal units and non-allergic pets
two cars parked in a freshly paved drive
an overly friendly postman to keep the conversation live
neighborhood watchers to keep trespassers away
tree lined roads without a glimpse of decay
i don’t know
it all sounds too perfect to me
give me the cultured grit of urbania
that’s my living philosophy
stumbling outside on a thursday night
running into a mixed couple just might
kick off a discussion on world events
or maybe just lead the proceedings to the park with live band tents
a subway ride away live van goghs and monets
across town you can find the son seals and robert crays
straight downtown is juniors famous cheesecake
all access, all day
no matter what kind of cheese you make
ok, so i navigate around the homeless population
and sometimes the pace can cause exasperation
but when i lie down at night
and think about what will come tomorrow
i know i won’t be left bored in the dark
because the city constantly calls for me to borrow
a ride
block by block
tick tock goes the clock
neighborhoods change faces
new storefronts
new races
all in a blink of an eye
why ask why?
all you can do is gear up and hold on for the ride
there’s nothing like this man made rip tide
life in the city ain’t a pity
give me a metrocard and 24 hours
i’ll come back with found knowledge and flowers
for you

alright
i’m stuck
i admit i don’t know what to do
her smile tells me go
but my guilt tells me i’d be a fool
twice before i’ve fucked up
and yet she still is a friend
is that because she still digs me?
or just cause she can mend?
i really don’t know
but i really do care
she probably sees me coming and it translates to beware!
i guess all that matters
is that we can now hang out and chill
but i do want to know what she feels
morpheus, i’ll take that red pill

Linda and I hopped on the Q Saturday afternoon and rolled down to Coney Island to catch the yearly spectacle "Mermaid Parade." When we got there, we realized that we came a bit too late as the streets were packed with spectators and mermaids were hustling to get into position. We did the best we could and shoved our way to the front of the rows of people stacked six deep and waited for the show to begin.

Now here’s something I didn’t know about mermaids; apparently they like to drive vintage hot rods and burn massive amounts of rubber. One mer-dude peeled out right in front of five cops and got them all choking on melted rubber fumes. I laughed really hard, which had people looking at me funny, because ever since 9/11, it seems that no one can make fun of cops in NYC. I still thought it was a Kodak moment. Sue me.

The next thing I learned was that drunken mermaids like to show off their boobs. Actually, all of the mermaids seemed to enjoy it. It made me smile. Linda didn’t say anything, but I think she thought I was a perv. I just found the whole spectacle amusing.

We ended up walking around for hours, stopping once to eat and once for me to lose five bucks on a basketball shooting game (it was rigged, I swear). At the end of the day, after spending an hour watching people on the boardwalk we dragged our tired, burnt asses to the train and went home.

Brooklyn rules!