Brand Hyena

last november, i was walking in the east village and found a notebook on the street. i’ve picked up my share of stranger’s grocery and to-do lists, but this wasnt just a scrap of paper. this was an entire notebook. 

the notebook was spiral-bound and its cover was decorated with peacock feathers. i opened it up excitedly, anticipating a large window into someone's life, but was disappointed when i realized it was mostly full of budgeting lists and business memos. looking through the 43 pages they had written on, i wasn't able to find a single clue about who the person was.

nevertheless, i kept the notebook. i even started writing in it. there were plenty of blank pages. 

today, i ripped out all 43 of the pages that weren't mine. fuck that person. this notebook is mine now. i don't care who you are. stop dropping your items in the east village.