peaceful journey

i finally figured out that kids are a way of acceptin' death. i mean, it's the one way to ensure your legacy and feel like you left somethin' behind. and there's an ethereal quality in knowin' that.

i would, however, have my kids sign contracts to ensure that they don't fuck up my legacy. like, no branch davidian style theatrics, no franchises developed that sell burgers, yogurt, or tacos that have zany spanglish names, and absolutely no pictures of them in tevas or birkenstocks. unless i have jesus as a child. and as a latin, that may be a possibility.

brooklyn, ny, 2003

mr. mark would like to talk to bruni about what disco smelled like.

you can't stop the prophet

the guy could be blue. nobody knows fo sho. he could also be double headed with no body. i ain't puttin' anything past him. maybe he just floats. jc seems like a pretty interestin' joe.

maybe they ran out of blonde paint.

chile, 2006

mr. mark's favorite color is blue. how coincidental and shit.