December 11, 2011Sometime 2009. From all the times I asked him about neon, a concept and moment immortalized in a notepad file.
(12:52:18 AM) < kitten>: Well, that gets into a whole bunch of love, loss, and neon.
(12:53:01 AM) < kitten>: Neon. Like that which illuminates city streets at night.
(12:53:13 AM) < kitten>: Where you're surrounded by people, by yourself.
(01:41:09 AM) < kitten>: The neon is more day to day, I think. I come out at night, when the working class is at home and the socialites abound, and the night's choked with smog so you can't see the moon or the stars, but everything's lit by neon and mercury-vapor streetlamps.
(01:43:14 AM) < kitten>: I leave the office those nights which are all dark and hazy and stroll on these avenues, avoiding the beggars and trumpet players, and try to find a place. And they're all just holes in the wall.