Working, hopefully, serving drinks for money on Thursday, the Giants vs. some-other-team. I will do research right before the game. In the Uber. On the way there, if the dude still wants me to work. I am not a large- busted chick with tons of sex appeal, but I have an arch in my lower back that can make a dick salute to any country. Its only 2:16 E.T.A. and It feels so much later, though I have not done anything but business ventures. I need to focus on the extra-cognitive, the actions to do with the intentions, and the neurotrasmittances (made up word). “And now this…”
I started drinking already; it’s only seven past two past seven.
Because I have the means, but my will is so self-giving.
Creating, and, reversing.
Back to the origin, we know we are all going;
The poetry in my mind, seems the only thing worth knowing.
The symbols in the paint, colours to the end of the proverbial flowing…
Sink to the bottom, of the ocean
There never was, any notion,
Of the end of the world.
All fell for the loss of,
The best of, the above.
Rhythm is lost in the,
Hyper-sensory glimpse of some kind of love.
–Julia Anne Colette Szczecinski
Julia is a painter, bartender, and writer currently living in Hoboken, NJ. She graduated from the University of Delaware in 2009 with a Bachelor’s degree in Philosophy, and an Art History minor. She has worked mostly as an art model after college and subsequently a bartender. She is currently focusing on her writing and painting and more of her experiences can be viewed on her Linkedin and Instagram.