Teenage Riot

Keith crosses the street. The after hours have just began but everything is open when you like in NY, and even when the night can be darker by any chance. There are thousand neon signs, the traffic lights leading the curse of the ppl walking by. Wet streets, cold nights. Ppl waiting by for the lights to tell them their next move. He looks around lights surround the night in a hurricaine of signs, red flashes purple, and blue becomes white still they fade into the village night. Ppl all around mohawks, rings, dress, make up, skirts, colors and voices all melting to then dissapear, becoming a whisper to his ears, belonging to the night. What happens to the night stays in the night. Keith looks down to the world under his converse, brilliant shiny streets mirrors of the night, paint in black awaiting to be paint by the night.

Keith's POV

The ground looms with the reflections of the lights, purple becomes white and black discovers a face, with no eyes and no voice. The wind brings the voice and the voice belongs to the night. The night speaks and so does the city. You can hezr whatever you are willing to.

I love the nights of the Village, I do but Sometimes I like some calm and I live to much in the downtown, I wont find it a few blocks away. No. I can only get it. In the uptown, In some neutral place, in no ones territory. But this is New York for gods sake, there is no place where you can find a no mans land. Not even here, no here you can do no use of rules and laws, truth here you are on your own, but even here, you are always surrounded by the same ppl. Ten years ago we were all in our own, no one looked the same, but today there are to many territories, to much to loose. All that "I dont care what you think" is pure shit, they care, they all say they are not for sale. It aint truth, maybe 10 years ago it was truth, maybe in Haight and Ashbury it meant nothing, and even there it was to much image.

Still image or not the Village is mostly made of real people, no they aint nice, and yeah they can be a bit to close sometimes, but most time they compromise less. This aint Olympia, this aint San Francisco, but even when we are all for sale, we are just reachable for very few. The image means very few here cuz even when we aint so totally careless, our care is very low.

When Soho crashes down and the village becomes a marketing ground, then its over. And it will be over, I just hope I dont live that long, I just hope I leave it behind before it turns to 5 fith avenue.
Its early to early but still, I know where to find the night.
Sometimes I play to be an uptown, upworld guy, I even have "normal" friends, Columbia students, NYU students, normal ppl that want to live their life the best they can. To many it might sound ridiculous:
The punk dude, the one that talks about crashing all institutions down, talking to college conformists.

Well lemme tell you they aint comformists they are just different, and That doesnt means I dont wanna change this bloody world. Id love to change this bloody world, but there are good things even here in this bloody world, and sometimes its exausting so I go uptown and walk around the park. It clears my mind.

So I take the subway and run up the metal stairs of 103 subway station. This aint the preppiest world either but just 4 blocks away, the park is secure, and lovers walk, and writers take coffee, and familys walk by. Brownstones, and intelectual dudes. Well this aint punk but to me its perfect to tell the truth sometimes I wish I would go to Columbia. Fake to some, but not to me.

So he walks a few blocks and the upworld smiles, safe, secure, calm. A cliche maybe but to him this is a bit of peace. And he walks in, and he sits, on the grass, before his eyes normal ppl pass by.
The leaves of trees perfectly green and alive, the breeze hits his face a different breeze calm, and natural.
Even when this sorta calm wont last, and I dont want it to last much,but for now I like it in here.