An interview with Raoul Peck leads to an article about Patrice Lumumba and now I'm on the train reading a poem by Frank O'hara that I don't understand.
I look up at the subway ad, and I don't understand that, either. Nothing makes a bit of sense.
I look at all the people on the subway, all us far underground, and I think, "Jesus, what are we doing here?"
One year ago: Nostalgia Trip
Two years ago: Brief Encounter
Three years ago: Boundaries
Four years ago: Brother Paul