squatting sabbie paint peeling carpets sticky holes in the floor windows broken graffiti scrawled, love and hate in messages of paint echoing and empty and corners filled with trash. paper street and cuba street, all smashed into one. a market researcher called one night and asked of her "do you rent or own?" and she laughed delightedly and said "neither. i'm squatting" 030902 what's it to you? who go blather from