monnaloguing.

(GET IT?)

anyway, for one of the pieces in the final performance of my hip hop performance class, i had to write and recite a short monologue.  the piece was called love/travels.  i’ve always been better at writing than speaking, but it was nice to get it out there:

i was practically born and raised on the seven train (back when it was still purple).  i started at the 90th street elmhurst stop, then moved east, a necessary shift that meant riding to the end of the line to main street, flushing.  of course i associate home with sights and smells and tastes, but underneath it all is a perpetual sense of being in transit, because the momentum doesn’t stop just because you have arrived.