The Funeral...

Not really... I'm just tired And Full Of Poo...

"I want to live a real life... I don't want to dream any longer."
Now. Now. Now.
Everything that you always imagined
Everything that you've always dreamed
Every night and daymare
every mistake
every beautiful moment
everything you've ingested
needs to come out, kid
wake up wake up wake up
no more dreams
Now. Now. Now.

Abre Los ojos, Puto...

I am the nightmare of stagnancy and the god of imagination.

A river always flowing.

Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses...

Sisyphus, sweating uphill.

I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn.

Now that I'm a complete whore and have to bartend for 30 hours a week, I can start writing my will. It's all over folks. Stick a city's-worth of drunks in me - I'm done.or now. It forces me to not go downtown and talk to drunken idiots because I'm bored of being at home. I barely have patience with myself.

I just decided that I AM going to go camping this weekend because I need to.

My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments.

i hate bartending

My fingers are Santa's little helpers.

I'm writing in a backyard while everybody else is asleep. My, how things have changed. Oh, I forgot to mention writing absolute crap is all still my norm, right?

I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas.

I don't have much to say because of how much I want to. Time is limited, crucial and tick-tocking at an alarming rate and I don't know how to handle it. I know that I shouldn't let the hard-caked and sun-baked soil affect how much I whip my beasts of burden when I have potential gardens growing. I know that I feel more like a Pollack painting than a Rockwell. I know that I feel more Communist Manifesto than Catcher And The Rye. I feel like a dark-knighted Batman, without the vigilance and with the obligatory dead parents, I feel like an invincible Tony Stark without the armor, I feel like Bruce Banner in a desolate desert without the anger and infused Gamma radiation...yes, wanting to be left alone, wanting to be an incredulous Hulk of focal strength.

True believers, what do you do?

Marvel at your universe and let Galactus-level, cosmic events make you feel infinitesimal?

Do you let the Gods govern your Earth-154?

I am an amalgamous Perry White and J. Jonah Jameson.

Reporting imaginary news.

Print.