august 27

listen to the rx bandits. roll the ankles. details but no story. never left, stayed in a hole of depression and then isolated by the horror of mosquito bites or scorpion kisses while sleeping in the haystack bed and losing a friendship to get drunk like getting drunk is a way to make friends when you turn 23 and the hype is reduced.. young bucks, distraction, our livers hate themselves and the tobacco locked itself in the car, a joyride lie and the rolling papers soaked in beer, it may as well be a deadened habit, with or without real flaky friendships, me or them or all parties difficulty in retaining the necessary relations with people I should call my friends. Hey I kind of know you. I know uncertainty.  I know what it is to wish for better. For work with the Stranger. Or some other publication. Something important and less confusing... less drunk with inertia... something rolling like a snow ball idea with the recording software made and learned until found enough... the weight of hesitation... somehow it is feeling incorrect and I have only terror to survive the morning within... oh god...