I know what’s going on and the worst part is, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing except my lips think they do. They’re curled up into some smile and the bottom one is quivering so much I have to bite down on it. Everyone is staring at me and I’m too drunk too stand still, and I’m shifting my weight slowly from side to side like a sloppy metronome.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth