i went to jersey to finish up some of things in jmz's apartment...i put a wacky bit of art on his wall, though thinking of it now, I can't decide if it's creepy or endearing. beer + valium + collage is not always the best idea. ah, well...you know what they say "what doesn't creep em out only validates your opinion that they were nuts in the first place."

I would have been back in (my/mollie's) home earlier, except on my way to the train, i saw a street musician and so i sat down on some steps nearby and enjoyed my malted milk ball gelato and listened to him wander through some jazz standards. eventually we began chatting about what we were both doing in hoboken. according to him, or his pride, he plays on that set of stairs for release, not the wrinkly dollars. he wasn't young and didn't have (rock) stars in his eyes; he had fading green teardrops by his left eye and what might have been a rose on his forearm. we talked and talked and laughed about how much he loves his first guitar (says he falls asleep with it, sounds familar) and where he's wandered and strummed and left friends and lovers. gave me various bits of advice (one i already knew: never get between a man and his guitar.)

alright, time for a kiefer and strawberry and peach smoothie. then sleep. mmm....