We drink to good books. I blow up balloons and fill them (multi-colored) with heart shaped confetti. I predict a riot, a mess, and a hangover. Hopefully not too bad of one. It can't be the night I wander angry off into the dark. Pissing on palm trees and avoiding the late night spray of sprinkler systems. I am wavering with sleep now. I had simply forgotten to write today. Another one gone, passing by like a lazy crowd. Another day disappears. Into the void. (goddamn this boiling space!). Where is the evidence to back it? In the jungle undergrowth of my heart. Inside the temple and the golden shrine to your godless nature. Coffee and a contemplation. Two bottles of champagne, jello shots and Irish whiskey. Without fear. Riders on the storm. We'll coast this high and ease into the last saturday before I leave. For the greens of washington and the photographers of los angeles. This is my last saturday in Arizona before I decide what to do with my life. (Perhaps I'll be given some time once back after L.A. who can be sure?) Will I enjoy dressing as they dress me and standing on light boxes? (Who cares?) Be the lifestyle you wish to see in the world. (I hate the world 'lifestyle') Be the man. That guy. The winner and the champion of the weekend. Everything great will happen if you believe and do it right. Right now. Right now Right now.
Rest.
