The Day of the Black Umbrella

Dropzone...

London, New York, Singapore. If I had a free choice, where would I settle? For now? For the future? What would be my deciding factors? The big-questions, the small answers? I don't know. Can we build upon stereo-types to inform our choices? Can I say "New Yorkers are... whilst the British are...and therefore..."? Would anything like that make sense or be a fair judge?

I don't know. Too many questions, too many factors. In a way, jumping off the plane of life, the wind guiding my parachute right back to Singapore for the next 6 years makes the above frustrations mere hypothetical scrabble. My landing spot has been determined by other forces. I'll just land and fight till I achieve my objective (which I have to find out).

I'll fight on until I get my next chance to stand at the door awaiting a new drop zone. Where the winds of chance and opportunity will take me, amen.

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The morning I didn't know what crashed into my Head...

Muffins, coffee. Gorilla coffee. Oh damn! I still have so many more stamps needed on my loyalkty card to get my free 10th. 

It is raining in Brooklyn. Just on the morning I escape from the office-desk entrapment. Wet mops of hair, my favourite Brooklyn coffee place. I will miss it dearly. Red lights, the therepeutic coffee breeze.

Electronic squeezes, big-question taunts, what-if pressures. I'm wading in a drugged morning, a drugged life. I don't know what crashed into my head this morning.

Toilet door swings open, good-looking Brooklynites.

I'm still here...my head hurts.

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Sunday's Brookyln Life. Missing it.

Prospect Parl. Brooklyn's Central Parl; Manhattanites may disagree. The Sunday sun has brought the amiable crowd to Park Slope; frisbees, writers, football, little boys on kites, clouds, bikes, families...Its so difficult to get a picture to capture the moments.

Sitting here gives me a better idea of how I'll like to spend weekends a few years along. Look, there's the little girl unsure of where to go, ball bigger-than-her-head in hand. Possibly, slightly further away from the weekends of corporate-ads overload; green, blue, white, children's laughter would be nice.

I guess one wants to escape the buttons, clicks, wires, glares, bitching, screens of the weekdays; real nice cappucino please, instead of instant-coffee at the office's pantry.

I don't want to go.

But I do go. McCarren Park, Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Parts of New York you never, I never, saw in the movies: warehouses, factories, empty graffitti streets. Can't ever trust hollywood or american tv can you? But I got down to 3 hours of football with the newly formed Vampire Squirrels FC. We then went for a pint, English-style.

Then it was time go home.

I don't want to go. I didn't want to. But I did.

---

we think too little;

question too little,

be cynical too much.

worse, being cynical

without thinking why.

all pictures in this entry are courtesy of deviantart.com

Uncle T