(Snapshot by the Mind of Kaze War)
Leaving this state.
danielonenyc said: hey are you same Kaze War who painted with Dux DDS, Foner MOT, Rath DDS back in the days ?!
Yes, that’s me. Rest in peace to Foner, Masters of Tagging. Dux and Rath are my boys although I havent seen either of those lads in years!
I have some entries ready but they aren’t in chronological order. Bear with me…
On second thought, I will wait to release them so that they are chronologically sound. This universe is confusing enough how it is; no need to further lead our minds astray.
The day went well: a fifty carton cigarette heist. Once I relinquish myself of said loot I will have made a decent profit. One may ask what determines a decent profit when all finances amassed from stolen goods is considered net income. Well, my friends, one may say it’s a win-win situation because I paid nothing and gained a lot but I must tell you that I did pay a price - I gambled my freedom. I gambled my freedom, my serene state of mind, my sanity, and last but not least, my nerves. These few things are priceless so it doesn’t matter if I netted five thousand or five hundred dollars none of it is worth being incarcerated, mentally unstable, insane, and last but not least, a nervous wreck.
Later in the day, a hair sliver before dawn, I sat down to listen to a story told by my good friend Kaze War.
"I reached home after a long day. The KST kid hit me on the text and said he finally bought his bicycle so he wanted to know if I’d be down to ride across the bridge and go bombing. I was down but I wanted to wait a bit until after midnight when it would be a little sweeter as far as police presence is concerned. A moment later, while I was still in my boxers tending to a few things, I get a text.
"Shit, I wanted to take a power nap to recharge before going out but fuck it - I gathered up around fifteen cans, downed a quick cup of Bustelo and headed out the door.
"We reached the bridge in no time. Sabe is a beast on the bike. He’s ahead of me, chopping the air as he glides, ascending effortlessly across the bridge. I pace myself to the apex of the bridge when I realize not only that the rest of the bridge is blanketed in darkness but so is the island of Manhattan for as wide as my view allows. I stopped in awe as bikers passed me, the glare of their flashlights like a diamond in a sea of coal. I marveled at the glorious view of blacked-out buildings. The rows upon incongruent rows of them looked like ebony building blocks laid upon a black carpet.
"I descended with caution. Sabe was nowhere in sight. My attention remained on the path as my descent into darkness quickened. As I sped I exclaimed a "Yo" every couple of feet just to alert any oncoming travelers of a cyclist barreling towards them. I emerged into Chinatown like a baby emerging from the womb of his mother into lightless world but not even an umbilical cord would’ve been able to hold me back from exploring this abandoned paradise. I dipped behind Sabe and made a left turn onto a street that was completely dark and deserted expect for a lone oriental man speaking mandarin very loud into a cell phone.
"We proceeded. Sabe brought a flashlight. He suggested I bring one but I didn’t own any except for my bike headlight which couldn’t be attached due to me breaking a piece of the holster. He shined the light at the walls. It was needed, those streets were so dark I couldn’t see what was on the gates. Northbound we went. I caught a few tags here and there but much less than I would’ve normally. As we headed uptown the police eyed us. Some squad cars passed with normalcy and others suspiciously. They probably wondered what we were up to, two men dressed in black, but they had more pressing matters at hand.
"As we approached the Bowery we both noticed the famed Bowery wall at the same time. We confirmed the sight: the wall was completely clean. A pristine white surface greeted us and we met it with a divine gloss black. Tag after identical tag we ragged the wall as , one by one, we looked out for one another. The job of sentry was difficult in the dark due to the lack of traffic lights but it helped that all of the emergency vehicles were required to have their flashing LED lights on. I watched traffic then he switched places until the euphoria of hitting the wall overcame us and we both hit the spot simultaneously. We were done. I went to grab my bike when I noticed Sabe adding accents to our names. Turning to my right to look out for the police I saw a squad car on the eastbound side of the street. Just as i saw them they must’ve seen us but they went straight. I’d like to think that they were about to leave us alone but contemplated it. Who knows what went through their minds as they went east for two blocks before making a u-turn to head full speed in our direction. We split the scene - Sabe went west and I turned the corner to go north. The cops turned my way and were a beat behind me but on the northbound side of the street while I was on the southbound. They didn’t have me, though. They probably didn’t know if we were on bike or foot. I cut a left, west one block then turned south at the next corner.
"Yo," I yelled.
"Yo." That was Sabe. We know one another well. He fled to the same block that I did. We went back to the wall to add some finishing touches before making moves.
"We went to Lafayette and caught wreck before scheming on a billboard located across from a fire station. A man exited a cab in the ebony night. He lingered upon Sabe and I as we schemed on a wall. He suspiciously eyed us. What the fuck is up with him?! Sabe was correct by figuring the guy was drunk . The poor chap couldn’t find the fucking door to his residence. He was stumbling around in the darkness looking for the door to his apartment so Sabe helped him find it. It’s crazy how the same kids would’ve probably robbed him had this been twenty years ago.
"My, how times have changed..
"Heading north we had a plan. Sabe was going to tackle a spot that he’s had his eye on for quite some time. Let’s do it.
"We were walking the bikes up Lafayette when a familiar car slowed to the speed of our walk twenty feet away from us. The Vandal Squad. I remembered the Taurus distinctly from a previous altercation. That marked the second time that evening I saw them. They shined the spotlight in our direction. Maybe they were trying to confirm whatever fucked up, vague description the Bowery squad car sent through the airwaves. Whatever the case we mounted the bikes and made a sharp turn. Losing them, for the time being, we headed to the location.
"As we get there it’s completely dead except for some blinking lights midway up the block. These blinking lights later turned out to be the flashing lights of some photographers bicycles. As they set up their equipment we set up ours. The spot that Sabe wanted was up on the third story of an abandoned building. It looked like a ledge but it really was a building without a facade. He needed a boost to grab ahold of the lowest part of a fire escape on the building adjacent to the target. Once he was up there it was so fucking dark that I didn’t see him again until he dropped back to the concrete forty minutes later. I jumped on my bike to remain mobile as I watched for police. Adrenaline rushing I stashed my paint as I rode around the vicinity. Since nowhere was open for me to use the bathroom my colon was about to burst with whatever I ate earlier. The pain was imminent and unsafe for my bicycle seat to bear. I held it as much as I could before yelling up to Sabe to see if he was okay and tell him I had to take a gravely urgent shit.
"Unable to contain my bowels I found a safe spot, pulled my pants down and took a nice, loud shit on the ground in front of a building on Bond St. Glad that Sabe bought two bottles of water from a vendor, I used it and my t-shirt to wipe my ass then used my tank top to reinforce my underwear. From the sound of my exploding ass I thought the shit would’ve been messy as hell but it wasn’t. I put my coat back on then pulled my phone out to take a picture of the regal pile of doodoo when a squad car pulled up to the corner, flashed the spotlight on me then parked. I jumped back on the bike and went up the street to check on Sabe. He was still up there. The photographers gained a few people. I was skeptical so I parked the bike and went over there to see if any cops were with them, blending in to watch us. Halfway to them a squad car approached me slowly, turned on the spotlight and passed the building Sabe scaled cautiously. I played it off like I was checking my phone. They passed. I exhaled. My bike wasn’t near - it wasn’t too far away either - so I would’ve had to make a mad dash if they stopped me.
"The operation continued. I still couldn’t see my companion but I heard the steady hissing of a spray can being emptied. I waited, cruising around, circling adjacent blocks keeping my eyes peeled for patrolmen. The squad car that rolled by me when I conveniently used the front of that building as a toilet was still posted on the next corner. I wasn’t sure whether or not they were there to watch us or just there to provide a beacon of light to that specific corner but I kept a suspicious tab on them by getting close enough to see if perhaps they were standing outside of their car watching.
"I went back to the building. A cab pulled up and two men jumped out. My paranoia said they looked like police. I listened to my paranoia. I fled into the shadows and watched them as they stood and looked around. Not sure if they were cops or not I took this opportunity to ride around the block. When I returned they were gone but Sabe was still up there. I told him that I would help him down if need be. He responded but I didn’t hear him nor see him. My once-steel nerves were slowly turning to silly putty but I was focused on doing my job while he did his. There was no way I would leave him and I knew that it would take a helluva lot of light in this deathly darkness for any cops to see his ass up there. Assuming he was ready I told him that I would make sure the coast is clear for him to come down. This took me about ten minutes. When I finally returned I called for him but looked in the darkness and saw him just about to drop down. The sight of him elicited a startling ‘oh shit!’ from me and right as i watched two men pulled up on bicycles. Sabe jumped down, stumbling when his feet touched the ground, right before the two bikers went to the door of the building to gain entry.
"Our combined adrenaline could’ve fueled a marathon. His experience up there and my nerve-wracking time trying my damnedest to look out in the darkness were two outstanding feats. We cruised. When we reached Houston Street we came face to face with the vandal squad again. They probably were looking for us since the Bowery wall is their primal location to catch vandals and we defiled it with such grace. Their headlights scowled at us from their position ahead at a currently defunct traffic light. Thinking fast I told Sabe to follow me as I turned right then faked left on Lafayette just to cut through the gas station and make a left onto Crosby St. before making a sharp left onto this little side street that’s between Lafayette and Prince. When we reached the intersection of said side street and Lafayette we simultaneously craned our necks around the corner and saw the vandal squad, facing south on a northbound street, at a standstill with their high beams on. One thing was confirmed: they were looking for us. We doubled back to Crosby and cut a left to see flashing lights in front of us. They must’ve alerted their homies. We backtracked to Houston and headed west as fast as we could considering how difficult it was to see a few feet ahead of us. Cutting a left on Mercer we headed south. About two blocks ahead of us there were more cops. One block south we dipped west then south again. I advised Sabe to stay on the sidewalk because we were easier to spot riding in the street. Going south another cop car cut a corner so we turned east on Grand St. and started to make moves. There was no way we wouldn’t be making it home, kid. No surrender, baby. Not tonight, not ever.
"We made it to the bridge moments later with our freedom intact. The next morning Sabe headed out to Houston to take photos of the Bowery wall and it was painted over by How and Nosm as they were starting their mural! Martha Cooper was there and Sabe asked if she caught any pics of our exploits. She didn’t.
"The lights are back on now. Back to business."
I’m just another one of those motherfuckers who write long-ass paragraphs and diatribes on tumblr that never get read. Those same diatribes that I’ve skipped over many times, wondering who would take their time to write such boring shit, while looking for the next picture of a beautiful piece of art or a beautiful photograph or a beautiful woman in a random stage of undress.
Furthermore - WHO GIVES A FUCK? Im gonna write anyway.
As told to me by my good friend, Kaze War:
"So, I’m with my girlfriend and we leave my house to eat at the Ale House. Everything is cool as we devour wings and fries. I stopped drinking beer recently - read: last week - because I’ve gained a considerable amount of weight in the past 9 or 10 months so I had a shot of Hennessey straight while the young lady had tequila AND Six Point on tap. Everything was fresh until the workers started stopping patrons at the door and charging them to get inside then shit got even fresher.
"The bartender changed from his black-vest-over-his-t-shirt ensemble to a skeleton costume with an air pump for a external dick to be pumped erect or left flaccid. Mad scientists, catwoman, barmaids, leprechauns, batman - everyone started pouring into the joint sparking an all out monster mash. A female DJ was on the ones and twos while a heavy duty bra held up the massive ones and twos under a black tube top as she warmed up the party with mad underground rhythms with some smooth beats that the bar vibes to. My girl was especially digging it as she ordered more drinks, I turned down her offer so I could mellow out a bit until the chump-for-a-bartender did some seriously stupid dance right in front of me, swinging his costumed dick back and forth. I told my girl that he was definitely out of line and it was borderline offensive that he did it in front of me, Killer Kaze, in the flesh but I let it ride because I understand that sometimes dumb motherfuckers know not what they do and don’t mean any harm. A few moments later I was looking to my left at this guy who pulled up next to me to order drinks, with my broad to my right, then I looked back at her. Much to my chagrin, she accused the Baron of Brute Ballsiness (myself) of ‘going along with’ the bartenders silly antics. What type of shit is that?! Why, after I JUST SAID that I was ‘borderline’ offended, would I go along with the silly shit that he’s doing? What was she trying to imply? After realizing the alcohol was influencing the evil transformation, turning my beautiful girl into a gargoyle, I verbally whipped her ass for saying that dumb shit then commenced to having a good time although I was a little disturbed that her transformation had begun.
"Before I knew it another round had been guzzled and she was over by the DJ booth directing him, because DJ Healthy Tits gave way to DJ Gangsta Rap, on what to play next. Cool. Some ill indian dude wearing a bakers hat that was the replica of another worn by a girl came in accompanied by an entourage. I sensed that the indian kid wanted to spark a convo but I purposely igged him until he wasn’t able to be igged anymore. He leaned towards me.
"Wwwwwwhat’s uppppppp, dude? I’m fffffrom Chicaggggoooooo," he stammered, definitely tipsy off whatever was in his glass. His lean had to have discomforted him yet he sacrificed comfort for conversation. We spoke. He told me that his dumb ass bakers hat was actually supposed to be the top of a condiment shaker. He was pepper and his girl, who was white, was salt of course. They were also with a dude who was dressed as a hasidic jew, bearded and black hatted. When my girl was first nearing the cusp of supreme inebriation she pulled the beard down and let it snap back to his face so violently that I was certain I would’ve had to mop the floor with this guys face. He took it like a champ, though. I guess it pays to be pretty because if she were someone else he probably would’ve tried to put his hands on her.
"Anyway, the entourage had a girl with them who interrupted Pepper to tell me that I reminded her of a MMA fighter. I’d heard it before. Pepper then bought a round of drinks and gave me one. "Cheers to (the MMA fighter)!" Salud, motherfuckers!
"The night pursued and I got loose with my dance floor pranks. When they had a costume dance-off I jumped in behind some guy in a Macho Man Randy Savage costume holding a Slim Jim in both hands. His boy, some dude in an extra smedium suit tried to hold me back like he was some tough guy but I pushed his ass out the way. He fronted like he wanted to get it in but I kept antagonizing him, since he was trying to be superdick, as soon as I stopped he turned to me and tried to make a joke but I shut him down and he told me I was on some ‘other shit’ before leaving the joint.
"Quiet as kept, once the joint was kaput my girl and I went to the local late night pizzeria when we saw a kid wearing a Supreme shirt with arabic lettering on the front. She said his shirt said subhan, I said it was a Supreme shirt. A quick debate ensued and she told me to ‘ask the bitch that was standing next to’a me what it says since I was looking at her. I swear the woman next to me had to be 50 something years old AND I wasn’t even looking at that social-security-eligible-heffer. Nonetheless, we argued, my shorty bounced and went home - expecting me to run after her (don’t ask why). I finished my scrumptious slice, dabbed my mouth with a napkin and dashed back to the lab."
I roamed for quite some time after running errands for necessities. Now I must rest. My day is done and I am seated on my throne triumphant of my days activities. You would kill to know the specifics but the details are unimportant, especially in an age such as the present, an age where everything typed is monitored, anything whispered into one ear may be amplified into anothers just to be whispered again, softly, into an agents ear someways down the line. The details are unimportant yet my safety is.
I am well. It is still early. Time is on my side as the eve spills into the night. We will meet again later.
As told to me by my comrade, Kaze War:
"Just left my good friend Sabe. I had to visit his new office space. The change of seasons is more noticeable in the winds and my hooded jacket shielded me from the cold arm of Lady Autumn. Sabe is doing well. His injury must be ailing him but he is nonetheless in good spirits. It is a fact that Remo BTB was apprehended last night. Sadness looms through the streets of the Lower East Side of Manhattan until the day of his return. Farewell, for now, Remo.
"Before coming inside I was stopped by my neighbor. She shared her New York story with me. She is a native Bostonian but has been here for quite some time and has worked in one of the bleakest, most dangerous neighborhoods in the city. She told me of her appreciation of the diversity and her newfound understanding of city life. Quite interesting to say the least for I am of a similar cloth, of the same pattern, as the individuals she interacts with daily. Still, I figure that if my story was opened to her it would not be so easily digested so I decided not to feed it to her. The option was never on the table, anyway. She spoke of her car being robbed of its catalytic converter while parked right in front of our homes, saying the professionals at the auto shop told her someone had to have rolled under her truck and sawed the converter out of its operating position. What a shame."