"My crush is on"
Corrine Fitzpatrick
and so here it is. late as later but sleepingless when New York's finest visited the upstairs apartments of noise darlings on the alcohol tilt. the cops were the baritone of just briskly annoyed and just kep ordering the drunks here and there their steps all over finding the stairwell and the exit the outside before they found a sober person to talk to. the reason for their visit: a window was coughing up a young male body. i love my upstairs people, they just barely grazed by jobs, returning the favor of their youth in velocity and squall yet these victory laps, these nights of blatant throwaways, the dirty chronology, the fabulous momentum: the waste of time.
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