THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT
This is a letter about today to Marika in Winnipeg. Dear Marika,
You know more about what;s going on in NYC poetry than I do, but perhaps today I have the scoop. I;m in Tompkins now writing on a typewriter for
the first time since childhood. It was raining earlier, but now the sun is
out and things are warming up and drying off. pThis year marks the 5th annual
NYC Poetry Festival, but I;m sure you knew that. We;ll talk soo n on another
Sunday when our free time aligns. Keep writing your beautiful words dear friiend.
P.S. Marisa, Kae, and Romina say hello from NYC, your home away from home
in Tthe UZS
the USA
i could try to relive my angsty youth and force you to read a sad poem about how hard life and force you to read a sad poem abouthow much things hurt. but instead i am going to comiserate about how hard
it is to type on a typewriter. there is a little voice in my ear asking me what am i doin? i dont think she means metaphoricaly, as in, what am i doing with my life or youth. i think she is just annoyed by my emtire lack of artistic process. so i lied, the angst!!! anyway, kind of neat to start the story for today. one...once upon a time... (see, told you i cant type)...
I tried to type on a typewriter earlier today in a hotel lobbybut this old graybeard in a suit was hogging it with whatever he was writingwho knows--maybe he was a writer ot r r a poet
or maybe he was writing about his foot problems or his to do list
or maybe he was just hitting the buttons to appear like he was a writer
faking me out
fooling the hotel guestsmaybe he was an employee of the hotel
maybe he was a con artist tryiiing to steal the typewriterbecause he lost one
the one that his grandfather gave him
or maybe he was writing exactly what I< ,m writingg now
maybe he was me and i him
this story begans with ......ONCE upon a time,:3 girls just wanted to have fun...;
..and thus decided to fly in NYC .
they discovered a wonderful city with amazing life experiences and great memories to bring back in italy.
bea bea
because, as walt disney said, if you can dream it, you can do it!
And just to finish:
When you go black , you never come back!!!
on this location in 1999 Steve Lacy p l played <Morning Glory< by Duke Ellington as part of the Charlie Parker Festival Akiro & I lived close by often passing by this beautiful old BIG TREE on that day in 1999 it was august and very hot but a cool breez rusled throughy=xx the summerleaves as Stev plaplayed his saxofone... a delicious ,memory for ever ...
o ee
and so how about when you hear a clock ticking . . . tick . . tock . . tick . .I ask you doeses it go slowly? or quickly . . . it depends how you feel, yes???
I feel like I am sure to make a typo. My thoughts probably include typos beforeI ever write them down. People don't think with perfect grammar!
hello. my name is james and i am sitting in this park typing on this typewriter. this is very different from an online processor. i am not familiar. my elders would be too. i wonder how familiar future generations will be. regards, james
Its a nice view from inside this little box on this misty day that makes our hair all fizzy and our skin all sticky. I wonder what the hawk is doing right now.
When I came here, I had something that I wanted to say, but as I wandered into some shop or another that gravitated towards my nostalgic tendencies, I went in and forgot the most important things that I wanted to convey to you tonight misspellings and all, warts and all. I had plans, you know, big ideas that would inspire a whole slew of people, a new generation of people too dim-witted to understand what a typewriter was aside from some beat up old thing that needed to be paraded out in public as though it were some piece of technology that was useless but it never went away, it's been here the entire time, you left it aside for something new that takes time away time. There were clouds and a break in the thunder that covered the land, shadows, darkness, darkness, no light, right, nothing at all, and not a hopeful gleam of something for tomorrow. What's tomorrow, where is tomorrow?
Everything was better this morning, everything was the same was it was yesterday. No one line, no one is in line, peeking through the corners, telling you you're not good enough, you're great, you're doing fine. Take a breath, breath, take a breath and meditate, look into the eyes of each person you meet and see into their soul, just say something nice dammit, and don't be so so just clenit.
dogs do not help with inspiration. by the way im loving the coding jokes above. why are there so many drunks in this neighborhood? why does community mean nothing to the broads who move here? you really dont need to party all night in the backyard or toss your trash in the corner waste bin. the end.
Talked to my sister. She just got home from her trip.Safely.
May we all be free from harm.
aaacid lasts like 333its rrar wwrwrwr oordered like 2 appetizers there was a park in chelsea
you can pisss your pants but that would only keep you warm for so long the quickest way to a womans heart is two collar bones beneath the ribcage
I don't know Binary, but he sounds like he is a really interesting guy.Full of stories no doubt. Maybe wisdom. Or even potentially...bullshit.
But definitely full of love.
And we like that.
It's funny though, because we also he heard he......
There are 1110 types of people in this world - those that know binary and those that don't.
#include @iostream@using namespace std;int main()
cout -- @Hello World!@ -- endl;
return 0;
-C++ robot