I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Monday, September 29, 2003
Carbonite...
San Diego. Hotel. Getting drunk. Jumping from one bed to the other with my butt in the air. The slowest taxi cab drive ever to downtown. Dancing. Taxi cab drive back. Standing in the drive thru lane of the only open food place in Chula Vista. Taking pictures with the girls in the car behind us. J peed on her leg. Regretting eating the Mexican food. Downtown again. Visiting a friend. Getting drunk. I hate football. I hate football fans. I love Irish bars with Irish bands and dancers clapping and clogging away. I love Radiohead. I love being escorted in the back of a cart to the concert from the parking lot and my girlfriend almost falling off. I love driving home fast. I do not love being broke. I love you.
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