Now imagine being asleep in some outer borough and getting the call, "Hey worker-guy, some crazy artist-type put a red heart on the bridge. This is insane! I said, no attachments of any sort! Now, get your can of white paint and get up there and take care of it!!!"Uhm, yessir. (But, oh, you can't hide the love...)
3 comments:
I heart this so much.
and then the crazy worker dude was like, i'm taking my white spray paint, spraying all my clothes, and going to kundalini yoga. he spray painted everything. his jeans. his workboots, his blue button down shirt. he walked past the man with the white heart to the other side of the bridge, he walked through china town. he went into the yoga studio. he took off his boots. sam nat. sam nat. sam nat. sam nat. nat sam. nat sam. nat sam. nat sam.
by the time he walked back over the bridge he was very upset. the red he had painted over, he knew now, should never have been covered. he bought a guitar and sat on the bench near the red-white hearted man and sang a song about the sun to everybody who passed by, spraying white into the air like it was freshener, his soul moving in tides like the river below.
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