I was sitting on a crowded metro train yesterday and I bent down to sit on my skate and a visual path, a tunnel if you will, opened up between my head and a very beautiful young woman. I let my glance linger and noticed that she was trying (not entirely unsuccessfully) to hold back tears. They leaked out onto her reddening cheeks, slowly at first then more forcefully as the wetness established a path of least resistence to the floor. I wanted to glide to her and let the traction of my embrace overcome any physical separation between our souls. But I was stuck. Seventy-seven sad commuters bobbed between us. Could I yell to her “I love you. Don’t despair.”? Could I sneak though the uninterested torsos and nuzzle her breastplate? Could I fix her with my eyes? No. No. I could. only text message her my love.

There is some good hip hop on the move right now:

the Quit Your Dead-End Job Tour w/
Solillaquists of Sound
X:144 and SPS
Prolyphic
and glue