I have been in New York for 6 months.
I am an actress. a writer. a muse. a lover. an opportunist.
And soon to be an underground super star. (If all goes accordingly to plans)
I am searching for a Bohemia in a concrete play place.
New York feels safe. So safe one can wander brookyln barefoot and not worry about
stepping on discarded heroin needles.
I am disappointed.
Where is the New York from Woody Allen films, Edie Sedgwick biopics, and Madonna's biography?
Instead I am faced with mediocre hipster boys, mediocre weather and the incessant screeching of the subway outside my window that sounds like the screams of little children getting their head mashed in.
Friends don't let friends get away with being a starving artist who doesn't produce art.
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3 comments:
Bohemia doesn't exist anymore. It has been commodified, chewed up and spit out by global capitalism. It used to look like freedom, love, intelligencia, Paris in 1899, or Harlem in 1923. Now it is decentralized, it resembles a Shins album and an American Apparell T-shirt. You are the closest thing you're going to get to Bohemia. And I would say you're pretty close, if not right on target.
There's also some rumor circulating that Bohemia might be moving to Hoboken. When I move back to dirty jeerz let's go on a treasure hunt for it. Although that might be never because I keep changing and adding majors. At least next time I come back I'll assist you in your wild goose chase
I knew, back then, when we were both awkward and pretending to care about senior survival (or whatever that class was) that you would leave that wretched place and become something even more fabulous than you already were at your eighteen year old time. Our youth is lasting five seconds. I need to remember that.
Anyway, I wish you all the universe has to give and p.s. your new photographs are very, very pretty.
I'd lick Amy's spit.
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