May 14, 1978 – East Village – Journal

Actors are all full of shit. Expecting attention for an unending of neuroses Pretending to be someone they are not. Unless they’re funny they bore me. Artists are much better. I prefer workers like Patrick the cook and Kim’s friend Amos.

Amos’s a Southerner always quiet. I didn’t know why Kim explained he was dyslexic. ” he never finished high school. He can’t read and he can’t read it write ”

Back in Boston I taught it at a Special Ed school. The kids were very challenged. Most couldn’t read. Most Couldn’t Write. As a child I had trouble speaking. Stutters stammers mumbles lisps eating my words. My schoolmates were not kind. I wanted to kill them all. I wanted to join the Marines and come back to my hometown as a killer. Amos must feel the same way and that’s why he’s in New York. Because people like us belong here.

Home must have been torture for Amos to stay in school.

He’s a good man and he likes me, because I dislike Marky from the Ghosts. But I no longer dislike Marky. He once tore up a picture of mine. It reminded me being bullied. I didn’t hit him. Wanted to but didn’t my father used to say, “You have to compromise.”

I never saw, why but maybe one day I will.

Four fat lesbians

I like the idea
of Subway suicide
Laying on the tracks
The steel wheels running over me
Not stopping
Not screeching
The A train
40 miles an hour
heading to Times Square

At that Kim’s apartment Amos Cyrena, Kim and I drink party shots. It’s afternoon. Sean leans against the plastic wall. no fun. we leave for a Dracula film. Zoltan: Hound of Dracula in Times Square. Get ready to scream.

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