blogs, like fortune

come in threes


raymi
anti
jamie

i remember on chat with anti, telling him about when i met raymi. with jamie. at the red and the black, a bar in brooklyn named after a stendhal novel. ermmm. anyway, when it was time to go we went out the door and stood for for a minute among the weeds, looking at each other. the two of them were facing me, with the streetlight on their backs. they had halos over their heads. i felt like we were on film. in fact i'd felt that way since i'd arrived at the bar, slouched, heavy-lidded, with my yankees cap pulled low.

now here we were, ready to go. they were taller then me. there was a lot of broken glass behind them. i thought about how i hated the way that street smells.

i wore my heavy green, geekoid glasses. the ones that are too big and sometimes fall off my face. i almost always catch them, though. then i shove them in a pocket for a while and forget about them, until i can't see something.

they were both so tall, with thin faces and supernaturally bright eyes. i told anti, that they looked like rockstars.

he responded "ha ha" or something like that

because he knew what i was talking about

then he wrote

"i'm tall too"

and i was like,

"yeah, i'm sure you are,"

then i was like,

"y'all 3 are some straight up motherfuckers."

meaning it in the best possible way, of course.