19:06

I've got dirt on my hands. I've been running. I recognize it. Not sure where to. The only saving grace is that eventually I'll end up somewhere. Long trips. Long, long, long. I can't break it. A long pause. I stare at you dead in the face. Nothing to say. You once told me a story of your youth. You made a bad choice you said. You left one for another. You regretted that. I told you the same thing. In that moment, by your door, when we locked eyes, that moment lasted for a long time. I told you you were going to regret it & I left.
You did the same thing.
I guess some people just don't learn from their mistakes.
I'm still helping you & you don't even know it. That conversation you had with her? That was me. You take a trip for 2 days. Try & distract yourself. The white lady was there & she brought booze. He read me some Henry Miller, something about swelling cunts. The day broke & neither of us knew.
I was angry that night after dealing with the game so I took a walk to find someone to take it all out on.
A whole lot of nothing.
I'm full of shit.
At least I'm honest. I'd like to think that's a rare quality, but who am I kidding?
Whatever.
I asked her for a nude photo & so as to make her feel comfortable, I offered one in exchange. I then suggested that we fuck & she could take it or leave it. Most of all I wanted the photograph & could give a damn whether we did or not, I was just angry. She agreed & we walked to the basement. I guess she appreciated the honesty. We undressed slowly, or at least I felt slow about it; booze. I positioned her, took the picture & handed her the camera. She snapped one of me, nearly identical to mine of her. She said something about meeting a friend so we got dressed & fucked off.
I don't know what it is, or how you do it, but I think this game is rigged.
People expect bullshit, so we've created bullshit, on top that pre-existing bullshit, to respond to some other type of bullshit, which inevitably ends up still being bullshit.
We've created all of this bullshit to make things easy.
We've created all of this bullshit to boost our own inflated sense of self.
I think you gotta get out there. Sometimes I don't eat. I barely get by. It does something for you though. You learn to understand your own nothingness & the beauty that is that in those types of situations. When your stomach is on fire & you feel on the verge of puking & that subsides because you've smoked enough cigarettes to curb your appetite, you really learn to cut the bullshit 'cause most of it ain't really important.
Being alive is a good thing & I'm happy for it.