Straighten your teeth.
Dress yourself in suits.
Do not wear cheap yellow t-shirts.
You could have been a movie star. A contender?
And thus it begins. My incoherent subway fiction party... intelligible? Illegible! Mostly, bad.
Snippets of people whose lives I do not know and who I will think of no more past the writing and subsequent reading of this illegible text.
Sad.
But there is a story behind him... a "guy" who could be a movie star but has grown up in a post-Soviet bloc town with no opportunities.
That's a lie because he doesn't even seem to have a trace of an accent. I don't know, I'm not close enough to tell.
"Be that as it may."
<--- Haha. Leather bracelet. White sneakers. Velcro shoes. Nose ring. Headphones. Blackberry. Bad handwriting. It feels ok to write. Good, even. ILLEGIBLE. Unless you don't listen to the reader. Joan Didion. Arm in a sling with a supportive lady friend. Lovely dark curly hair with a nose ring. Very large mole on head. Closely cropped hair. If I don't stop looking I'll faint. It is BAD. Oww... <--- Out of my line of vision. Now an old hippie man. Maybe. Gray messy ponytail. Adidas? Plaid on plaid. Book? --> James Patterson. Maybe not hippie, just lost.
I need to practice writing more like this, at least, when I am on a train... and slightly........
Thoughts move too fast and
WASTE PAPER.
2 stops left.
It's better to write on a ride like this than read.
Creative reflection and slight embarrassment.
Maybe editing needed and major revisions required that
WILL NOT HAPPEN
(EVER)
better
(if possible)
