i was feeling so downtrodden i thought of suicide. they painted the tunnel and painted my new rain coat. then a fedex truck tried to crush me. i stopped him in the underpass and waited into the green light until he started to climb down to beat my ass and i said, oh, do want to go? well why didn't you say so? ok bye. i felt a high like that little gut in tiananmen square stopping the tank with his tiny white flag. bless him in solidarity with all the little guys of the world. i read about david foster wallace in a book called Capture, and i've always thought of suicide as an amazing conceptual act, too cowardly to pursue. but the apartment i occupy was that of a suicide, and i always think of The Tenant, roman polanski's film about a guy who moves into a suicide's flat and the ghost possesses him and he dresses like her and jumps out the window repeatedly. well the artist who left hasn't haunted me, at least not explicitly. maybe implicitly.. but like the artist who vacated i have thought about the big S since i was nine and childhood's end.