Wanting a Drink on the Sixth Avenue Bus

Later still...

How can these circles ring round and round endlessly? In the same place... Desperately alone, clinging to the edge of the night... needing the roughness of the surface, but without the key... turned around at the door. All I needed form him was one walk.

(She's got a bluesy feeling in her eye and it's making a sigh).

Or, maybe a drink...

Some laughter mixed with night and the feeling of heat, attraction, freedom. I should have pierced my ear... gotten that tattoo. Maybe I will.

Mark into the room exiled smiles with the drilling taste of heavy smoke in my mouth. If I were alone, Id' go home and get drunk tonight... drunk into oblivion. But I know he'd worry. So, it's home on the bus to stale eyes. He'll know something's wrong and get upset and then I cry. (I feel it threatening in my throat now!)

But the truth is that there is nothing wrong except that I feel stifled and need something more... Something social. I only wish he could share that with me... That we could find it in each other. But at least tonight I should (have to hide) -- no more going out alone. It always ends in depression or sweat and danger... and I can't have that anymore because I love my B. That leaves depression and I might as well be depressed at home than alone and drunk.

(Past the Manhattan Mall)

I think I'm gonna cut my nails and learn the guitar.

The thickness of the smoke is dizzying me. (Through a hallucinated cocaine cloud.)

So, more later.