daithi's profile

Here I am again. I know how it happened. I was there for the whole thing: Crown Heights, The Bronx and right back to the place I started: Greenpoint. It changed. It gentrified. I think I liked it better before. There are more beautiful women now though. I just heard these thugs speaking below my friends window. That's how it used to be all the time. It's safer now I guess. I think I liked it before when it was more dangerous, interesting and cheaper. Pretty women only go so far. . . . I would...

I made it and I don't want to talk about it anymore, except to say that I did not die yet again. That is good. It feels great. I may not have made it over all the hurdles, but I'm still in the race. Perhaps that's all one can hope for sometimes: making it through. I want more. . .hurdles that is. . .because they make me stronger. We've got problems and I want to be prepared to fix them.

So, I think my roommate might fit the profile of a serial killer, which is great news since I can't afford to move right away. I moved into the place about a year and a half ago. I was sharing a place with a friends brother and the lease was up, so I decided to move to a loft share where I would have more space and be able, perhaps to set-up a small editing studio in my space. My dog would have more room and there were two cats that could keep him company. I was really buzy with work so I wan...

There has been an on-going dialogue at my workplace about current events, mostly regarding the Iraq war, the environment and United States society in general. One earlier in the week began about music and transformed into a social critique, by me (no please, don't thank me yet, but I was the hero of the conversation). My co-worker asked me if I like the Irish pop group "The Cranberries" after I had referred to them as "The CRUD-berries". I said I did not, because I think their lead singer Del...

As I sit hear and type, I can hardly see straight from being tired from working and the weight of a world, that more and more not like anything I can relate to despite my being of it. Both of these things make my back ache. This is not the world my parents, or my teachers told me about. This is something that I could only create in my most cynical imagination and it's happening right now. What's worse is that I often feel that I'm the only one seeing it: The war bankrupting us and depriving t...