No human of New York

DIY ZINE #016

ZEE, STORM EN DUISTER

STOPTHATSHIT,WENEEDTOGO! STOPTHATSHIT, MICHAEL,WENEEDTOGONOW!

Followed by the far away sounds of a fire truck and a police care. A rude awakening on the first day in a brownstone on Van Buren Street, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, New York.

A shower.

Chewy mango from the corner shop. The pieces seem alcoholic. A cookie with a smile drawn on it.

Coffee.

The crossing guard greets me and guards me across the street. “Haven’t seen you in a while!”, she shouts to a father with his son. They have been ill. Have a nice day, y’all.

“What are you looking at, boy!? Fuck you, boy! Come fight me, fucking Americans!”

The subway platform gets tense as the guy keeps shouting at people. I manage to sneak around his back and get away from his threats.

The lights in the train keep on flickering. A tall guy in a ice hockey jersey starts a monologue about the elections. Nobody is sure about his intentions.

“Don’t care what they may say, we got that attitude!”, as I pass the Bad Brains mural.

Rain is drizzling from the sky as I watch a skater do a very long nose manual. Smoked mozzarella and caramelized onions are falling from the pizza back into its box. It’s not raining hard enough to move.

Sirens come closer and closer. A parade of firetrucks drive by.

“No offense, but this city would eat you alive.”

Yes, it would. It would indeed.