Monday, October 22, 2012
[26-9-12] - The ability to single out one memory, to me, dwells on distinction. What makes this memory most, well, memorable? And, why? Most recently, actually on the day depicted, I had the displeasure of entertaining the company of an unstable, liable to flip shit, homeless schizo. The whole experience was entirely foreign to me, but incredibly hilarious nonetheless. Many would argue such behavior is expected, given New York City's reputation for harboring the most strangest of characters - an attribute which most take incredible pride in, might I add.
Here we are, myself, Monica and her younger brother, Juan (whom took the photos and, I edited them) and we're approached by this initially calm woman, declaring her need and right to sit down and sift through her magazines. When she's justifiably denied and redirected to the other extreme of the statue's base, that's when the drama begins. Ha! She's wailing and shaking her head, persisting on her demand to sit where she desires to sit, despite the fact that it's already occupied and may be so for the next five to ten minutes. Not too deep into the squabble, we gave up; we saw no point in arguing with someone who is too consumed by their own desires to seek reason in the situation. All my years in New York; I suppose it - being directly confronted with madness - was bound to happen. "Power to the Peaceful."