Why are my entries so fucking long as of late?

There's always going to be something that I wish I had done but never did. Maybe even never got the chance to. And that fleeting moment, that fleeting window of opportunity, will never be opened again like a lockbox with the key lost.
And, I'm warning you now. If you personally know me, in real life, I plan to use names in the next part of this entry. If we spend time together, you will recognize names and you may be able to put faces to them. And since I know that this isn't so hidden anymore, that people do read it, I'm going to warn you that you may even be included in this. Alright, so it's less of a warning, but more of a heads up. This is going to be the least cryptic entry I've ever written.
I think of photography daily. It's actually a constant thing, everything that I see is turned into individual photographs. I am going to type out a list of photos that I wish I had taken. That I wish I had gotten my camera out in time to capture it forever and immaculate on film.


James and Kevin, sitting on each end of a park bench next to their bikes. James with a cigarette in one hand and a black sweatshirt with Wingnut Dishwasher's Union spray painted on the front.

Danny lying on his stomach on my bed, back when it was just the mattress on the floor, with a comic in his hand. Only one light on, casting shadows under my desk.

Pat outside of Catch 22's Winnebago clutching a poster he got from Ed and a pack of Native American cigarettes, the kind you don't have to pay taxes on.

David and Drew in the kitchen with red dye staining their fingers and David's pants, ingredients for a cake visible behind them. Pedro standing on the foremost counter, in the right corner, out of focus.

Brittany sitting by the merch table smiling next to the display of earplugs, water, and tee shirts, with my favorite security guard sitting behind her, eating the peanut butter cups that I bought.

Mike standing right next to that pole on the corner, almost leaning against it, with a cigarette, his glasses slightly crooked, his mouth open in mid-sentence.

From the back seat, Jessie smoking a cigarette out the driver's window, looking straight ahead while Sam talks to him from the passenger's seat, her head turned, looking at him.

Joanna on Halloween, in her detective costume, standing on a stack of wood that's tall enough to let her see over the heads of a great circle of people crowded around a group of street performers.

James at the Hook in Red Hook Brooklyn. In the little enclosed courtyard out the side door, his back facing the gate that the instruments and equipment came through earlier. Slightly overcast day, slipping carefully into night, dusk. A door leaning on hit's side to his right with a perfect number five spray painted on it.

Cody sitting on the washing machine (or maybe it was a dishwasher?) in the corner of his kitchen.

David sitting on my bed, this time the mattress is on the frame, with one of my bras cupped so as to make a circle of sorts, up to his face, pretending that it's a gas mask.

Rob bent over, breaking up a dub on top of a borrowed dollar bill on the little counter next to the sink in the basement of that church on the corner. The one that they somehow found keys to and have a habit of trespassing. A purple pipe, a green bowl, a box of matches, and a half finished cigarette next to him.

Kevin and Mariano (who is wearing a hat with ear flaps) in some park in V.S., Mariano rubbing his hands together for warmth with a smile on his face, Kevin, brow wrinkled in concentration, sparking up.

From the backseat, the well lit sign in front of In & Out lighting up the front on the car. Scott in the driver's seat, head turned towards the window which is mostly open, only allowing you to see the back of his head. PJ's head and shoulders are leaned slightly into the car, the brim of his hat blocking out his eyes. It's clear that they're fighting by the way that PJ's mouth is poised.

Emily and Michelle standing next to the concrete pole in the parking lot near Dunkin, Michelle lighting a cigarette with a barbecue lighter, Emily in a fit of laughter.

Jay Tea leaning against the wood paneled wall of VP South with a half full pint of beer, which is certainly not his first. His mouth is open, he's yelling at the guy in the sound booth because the beginning of the Flaming Tsunami's set is just a phone ringing for five minutes straight.

David's fish tank light on, everything else turned off, casting a warm, orange tinted glow on everything. He's laying partially under the covers, on his side, facing towards the drawers and the heater. A smooth expanse of back is showing, highlighted on it's start near his hip, but faded into shadows.

Taylor sitting on the floor in her room, drunk, playing with her new cat and laughing. Her girlfriend, Shan, Steph, and Katherine are visible in the background, crowded around the computer taking photobooth pictures.

Terri laughing at Kelsey in Union Bagels. Really laughing, not just that little half smile, because what she said was really funny.

Emily in her Daria costume. The black knit ski hat with flaps and tassels, the skirt, the green jacket, and those shiny black lace-up boots.

Kelsey and Joanna in the basement of Five Pointz. It's dark, almost too dark to see, but you can just make out the piles of clothing scraps littering the floor and the creepy as shit cobwebbed sewing machines. It's not posed, their faces are slack in observation, their heads slightly turned away from the camera.

Shan standing outside of Union Bagels waiting for us to finish our cigarettes, disposable camera in hand, talking to Emily about something. The sun is high and bright in the sky.

Matt, in Scott's car, driving down Scranton, smoking a cigarette out the window while playing some skating game on his iPhone. Charlie in the foreground, out of focus, his mouth open, talking to someone in the front seat, the collar of his coat hiding his chin.

Katie in a leather jacket with her nose red from cold and crying, sitting on the floor in the box at the train station. The florescent lights giving her an eerie glow. Safety pin in hand, cleaning out her pipe, a mostly full forty of Olde English to her right. Ryan, from the knees down, wearing jeans, in the left corner.

Meggy sitting at Vince's kitchen table, her skinny arms, skinny wrist, skinny hand holding a cigarette. Denny out of focus on a stool behind her. Smoke clouded around her as she types on her phone. An ashtray as well as two beer cans, a pack of Marlboro Reds, and a cup of orange juice on the table in front of her.

Nick sitting in his computer chair, next to his TV. He's looking forward but he's laughing at the movie on TV.

JP pouring Bacardi into the fire pit at V.S. State Park and then lighting the leaves on fire. His body illuminated against the background of silhouetted trees and somewhere in the distance lights on the highway.

The boy at the Museum of the Moving Image with a too small, dark blue Sonic Youth shirt, skinny jeans, a backpack, and yellow shoe laces.

Dan coming down the stairs from the perspective of someone going up the stairs, at Webster Hall. His face open in a smile and a greeting. His cheeks ruddier than usual in the strange red glow from the light at the top of the staircase that's reflected off the mirror above.

Tom at the Knitting Factory, from outside on the line, with the curtain on one of the windows pulled up. His smile comically large, his hand waving.

Ryan standing outside of In & Out, talking to Kelsey who is sitting on the curb with her coat pulled close around her. Kelly looking uncomfortable in the background. Almost not associating herself with the

Someone's ex-girlfriend, sitting on top an amp outside of a venue in R.V.C., head down. The sun is bright and hot, but she's wearing a black sweatshirt. Connor is visible in the corner of the picture, from chest down. No shirt, no shoes. Green socks and loose jeans.

Emel smoking a cigarette in a blue coat, outside of the school, in the street as not to be smoking on school property, at 9:00AMin the pouring rain.

Evan sitting on a blue rolling chair in front of the door out of the computer lab. The room behind him is lit up but the lab is dark. He has headphones in and is scrolling through his ipod with disinterest.

Britt lying on the table in the printmaking room, her hair splayed out, next to a pile of coats and bags, almost blending in.

Kelsey in Search & Destroy on St. Marks, rifling through a rack of second hand shirts that are organized in color order, wearing a short black dress and tall black boots.

David sitting on a stool in the back of VP South, in the fenced in area, the band's vans and cars are visible through the fence. People that may of may not be Jay Tea and Doug are out of focus in the background, smoking cigarettes.

Johnny's little brother sitting in a chair in Vince's all-white basement, dead asleep, the lights hitting his freshly dyed green hair. People in the background playing a "riveting game" of beer pong.

Brendon in the kitchen of his apartment, arm outstretched toward the fridge door, mouth open in question.

Dave lying in my bed at three in the afternoon, orange sunlight in the winter, all the blankets pulled up around him, bunching in a circle around his face like the mane of a lion.

Joanna standing by the dresser upstairs, the sloping ceiling making her look taller, leaning over to blow out incense on a rainy Sunday.

Vinny in Vince's all-white basement, directly under one of the lights, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table where a homemade gravbong is sitting. Shot from behind, the blurred figures of Sean, John, and Nicole sitting on the couch in front of him visible through the spikes on his head.

Beau standing in the front doorway, afternoon sun as backlighting. A rust colored scarf tied around his waist and grease from his bike smeared on his nose.

Matt sitting on my wooden chair back when the pile of laundry in the basket used to sit right next to it. Leaned over in jeans with a hole in one knee and a hooded black sweatshirt. Fiddling with a half empty soft, battered, pack of unfiltered Lucky Strikes.

Sam and Jenna sitting across from Sam, Jesse, and I at a strange wood panneled, lace curtained diner. Sam leaning forward, hand outstreched towards a plate of french fries that are out of focus in the foreground.

Tom leaning against the wall behind Tofu. Red sweatshirt, black coat, black hat, hood up, that fucking giant earring and a disaffected look on his face. Cigarette in hand.

Shane and Jon is Shane's basement sitting on one of the couches, trying to play some unidentified driving game with a guitar hero controller because the regular controller is broken.

JP under the streelight by the curch, leaning back against the hood of Sean's blue minivan at night. Four kids sitting on the sidewalk in the background. JP's head is titled towards the sky, watching the stars.

Griffin in the underground garage by the Starbucks. Held up by Jesse, in a headlock. Arms blurred with the motion of fighting back. Both boys wear identical broad smiles, betraying the idea that they are really fighting, but instead just rough housing.

Ashley lying on her back in Vinny's backyard on a warm September day. John with the Black Flag tattoo and some other kid that I can't really remember the name of, who my possible be one of Vinny's "cousins" on either side of her. Far enough to almost be out of the frame. The air above and around them is heavy with smoke. Ashley is laughing, sun filtering through the tree branches, casting shadows.

Jimmy leaning over into the crowd at VP South, basically held up by them, in short shorts and a pair of high top hounds tooth Circa's just like the ones I had in low tops. Sweaty strings of hair that have got to be in his face, microphone presses against his halfway open lips. Fucking drunk as hell, and probably singing the wrong words.

Two kids from Staten Island, outside of the Knitting Factory. One of them in a striped sweater, smoking a cigarette, Marlboro Reds, the pack sticking out of his pocket. Both of them staring straight ahead at the camera, the smoking one smiling as he exhales, the other one mid sentence.


I am beyond not done. I promise you that in future entries there will be more descriptions of pictures that I wish I had taken, but never did.