Measure in love.
Measuring everyday till the end of day, hoping my stock grows by end of year
Thought revisited come January 2013
***NOTE: for those that remember the Broadway and international sensation “Rent“, you may also know that its writer passed from AIDS the night before the Broadway debut. Truly emphasizing that every one of the 525,600 minutes in the year of a life should be treasured.
Remembering singing and learning that song in chorus freshman year (before the whole chorus/band teacher was arrested for having sex with two female students in the instrument room, video-taping it, then being found to have the largest collection of child porn in his home that was ever confiscated in the state of New York) makes me so so so thankful I was fortunate enough to be raised in the greatest city in the world, New York.
When the rest of y’all spent High School riding around in cars, messing around in basements, hangin’ out in malls, my friends and I were going to Broadway plays on student discounts or ushered for a free shot at watching the show. We went to Museums that were free to those or at discounted prices for those under 18.
We played frisbee in Central Park, ran into Movie Stars and Athletes sun bathing shirtless in Sheep’s Meadow.
Went to concerts at CBGB’s before it shut it doors forever. We saw fucking Eminem live in a tiny venue a week after “My Name Is” was released. I was so close to the stage, to his body I could taste the sweat dripping off his body in meagerly packed club. When he jumped into the crowd, my hands firmly gripped his rapping white boy ass (a habit I make now when I run into celebrities, holy crap is Christopher Meloni BUILT, man is a brick wall! Ok, off topic).
I fell in love with him before I ever heard a recorded version of his songs. Before he played at stadiums, did “concert events” with Jay-Z, who, by the way named himself for the train lines he lived off of, J and Z lines. Cuz that’s one way we distinguish ourselves when we meet new people, by the train lines we live on – we don’t drive, it’s called public transportation bitches!
~ the “I’m from New York City“, audacious amateur blogger