Saturday, May 29, 2010

to get to Oakland

Dear Oakland,

I want you. I want to walk your streets, avenues and feel your saltpeter, just barely, but definitely in my breath. I want to sleep on your floors, the floors of just-met strangers and pack books in a little backpack. Sleep next to it. I want to wake up to ramen and the noises of somebody's house. Someone I do not know, with whom I talk as though we have always wanted to know each other. Someone ten, fifteen, twenty years my senior. Someone kind.

I want to wear the same clothes as last night to the lecture in the morning. I want to end the days drowsy and tired and elated. Thrilled to be talking about the revolution in our notebooks, in our minds. I want to love your trees and trash. Your graffiti and your Ikea furniture.

Most of all Oakland, I don't want money to stand in our way. I don't want money to hold me back. I always have been last, if at all. What do I mean? I mean rice and beef flavoring for dinner. I mean $2.50 per internet article I write about dermal fillers. I mean: I should be with you! I'm belly up. Where are the hands? Who will give me one?

Okland, I am afraid I won't come to you. Our love is for the page and not the real world.

Broken hearted and yours until capitalism crumbles,


Thursday, May 27, 2010

You Going?

My name is Bajo. I'm going to be attending the 95cent skool, like you. I'm excited and really want to meet and talk with other folks attending. I started an open blog for those of who want to dialog and rant. It's just an experiment. Do you want to participate? If you do, this is your blog. Let me know you want to log on and we can set it up...