They Are Only Human, And Therefore Mistakes Do Occur

dictionary human |ˈ(h)yoōmən|

adjective

• of, relating to, or characteristic of people or human beings : the human body | the survival of the human race.

• of or characteristic of people as opposed to God or animals or machines, esp. in being susceptible to weaknesses : they are only human, and therefore mistakes do occur | the risk of human error.

• of or characteristic of people's better qualities, such as kindness or sensitivity : the human side of politics is getting stronger.

• Zoology of or belonging to the genus Homo.

thesaurus human

adjective

1 they're only human: mortal, flesh and blood; fallible, weak, frail, imperfect, vulnerable, susceptible, erring, error-prone; physical, bodily, fleshly.

2 the human side of politics: compassionate, humane, kind, considerate, understanding, sympathetic, tolerant; approachable, accessible.

3 in human form: anthropomorphic, anthropoid, humanoid, hominid.

fourth bus this January. in Brooklyn: walk and forage for silver sidewalks. most of the time it's gum, but it goddamn deceivingly looks a lot like quarters. eating 25 cent bagged potato chips and mini snickers. 33 cent bagels at C-Town and Associated. bodega on the corner felt bad for me (always paying in dimes and nickels), fat bagel toasted with butter: 75 cent. broke out on my chin from the poverty foods - grease and sugar are cheap in america. George street caked in dog shit, never look up, never look up or you'll have the air of mold married city dog pissy-shit partying in the tread valleys of your stupid girly heeled boots. I wore the (Brunswick, ME) Salvation Army fur coat over baggy t-shirts and jeans with holes in the ass almost every day. usurped Russ' huge green corduroy button up|down so I could hide (in it) the holes easy. no one wants to see that. it's rude. unsavory. Gaby's Bakery. assorted baked goods for little to nothing. 75 cent generous raisin scone and usually a complimentary coffee or pineapple cookie. 85 cent sparking waters with probably fatal helpings of aspartame. Coors for a little over a bone. it's amazing how much money people drop on the street. probably holes in their pockets. or maybe it's some people don't give a fuck about the two dimes in change they got after ordering up an egg sandwich. (I always called them breakfast sandwiches but was recently made aware that no one says that in new york city. it's egg sandwich. ok.) I could smell them on my walks to Glendale. which is basically a bizarre Lowell with a huge Jewish cemetery. walk through Ridgewood, past all the Mexican joints and hello Glendale white jocks playing pool through neon beer signs giving me the once over while I frown furiously speed walking through like a middle-to-older aged woman worried about the drooping where once was once was. ('Droopy was the goddamn missing dwarf; he belongs at snow white's heals, not around the ass and thighs of the Wicked Witch of the fucking East.') the frown came first, though. apparently that's how I get when I concentrate. (I think I do something weird with my nose and upper lip too. very unflattering.) walking is a prime time to concentrate. there's a lot to work out before sitting down again. in the Glendale Jewish cemetery - Mount Lebanon Cemetery if I recall correct - I walked one day to the top of the hill and looked out towards the east end of the place and curiously noted the exceptionally compact nature of that particular area in the graveyard. turning to my right, the sun came from behind a cloud. it was off and on like that all day. sickly little skin clouds, but pretty dark gray and highly persuasive on my mood. I gave a nod to the sun and continued on towards the further end of the plot and in the corner of my sky eye line I saw a flock of red balloons. must have been a birthday or any sort of event really; but none of that seemed of any actual significance. this particular sequence of events cloaked me all day. my skin was knotted |unkempt| in my gut while my insides lay stretched wet absorbing the slug clouds and the sun and the shrinking red stars. I walked on and later that night was in a better mood than the few days before. inevitably ended up watching Forbidden Planet or War Of The Worlds or some goddamn brilliant old sci fi flick. probably had a green pepper and Roma tomato bowl with multiple tablespoons of hot sauce. (peppers and tomatoes are cheap too. hot sauce is around three or four bucks but it lasts and it clears out your sinuses like a motherfucker, so I'd opt to blow a chunk of change on a bottle as often as necessary.) of course, the charity of kind souls is a charity I couldn't begin to express thanks for. probably not in English or human talk at all. I try to say it with my eyes because whatever is in there I always find to be far more truthful than whatever bullshit comes out my mouth. I'm real sloppy that way. not a great talker. problems with saying things unless I've got it all figured out and it's completely accurate to whatever the feeling is. that can be pretty hard for me. usually comes out terrifyingly abstract (& days too late) which I'm told can be pretty frustrating to deal with. jesus christ there are a lot of mack trucks out this time of night.