About an hour ago, this fucker two windows above my apartment starts blaring rap. I started scowling like a nancy (cause that’s what nancy does. She told me she does.)
Three hours before that I endured countless annoying words exchanged between two Cuban men on my porch, fixing a door or replacing some shit next door.
I’ve been irritable all day, tired and irritable. I used to be the kind of tired irritable that went along with having a terribly annoying day, now I’m just confused as I reach for the honey pot.
Is there literally a soundtrack playing 24/7 in every brooklyn apartment…or just mine.
The rap pisses me off so much, cause…call me silly but I never play music loud enough for others to dance and follow along on the other side of the wall. I never play anything with the intention of making their ears bleed and coo either.
It was weird dark alley woof woof dick rap …god only knows what they rap about……but It did not sound inspirational.
I dreamed about about running up the stairs with a hammer to say, “Hey, I thought I would come up…you did invite me to the party right, that’s why you’re blasting this pretty stuff so loud..preventing me from writing…cause you want to hang?”
But interestingly enough…no idea why…I choose to drown the sappy slop twang out of my ears with…1920’s jazz. I tried to chalk it up to being a tool…but I love this music, it makes me want to drink and sing all night, the world dressed like someone else, a gent, a suit, an antiquated red bow tie, shiny shoes, a high class speakeasy…this isn’t just music dedicated, solely inherited by old farts, geezers, sexy people in their late 40’s right…stuff like that? I too can take a seat, and drink a soda pop and inherit the raspy jewel of days past.
I wanna go to Brick tops damn it! The piano riffs on Fats Waller’s record literally makes my socks dance off my feet to party with other socks. I am too tried to write today, too much of a baby to read but I’m trying and enough coffee and jazz keeps me from dyin
And from now on when the rap or the music the kids play downstairs, or the Colombian music upstairs starts beating down my head..I’m going to battle them with shit they will never understand…
1920’s jazz boo-yea
What did you fall in love with today?