"fuck this city/run by pigs"
-Black Flag
I'm through the better part of my sentence. And though it seems to be going quickly I can still feel it building up on me. There is only so much isolation and bordem I can take. The real len her forms was last Friday.
I got some tell out and spent the morning with D. And E. These are far and away two of my very favorite people I. The world. And. Even without the late night revelry of pints and rum, I still have one of the best times I've had in the last few months. I hate missing my kids and my friends and that is starting to wear me down.
So I listen to the Damaged album from Black Flag andthat helps for a while. And I text some friends and that helps for a while. And then I realize that I still (I only) have a month. And that literally makes me sick to my stomach.
My only choice is to turn the Flag up more and suck down a few smokes.
File this fucker under Vice.
3 comments:
it would be dumb to just say hang in there. it is odd but think about death, think about it all fading down to nothingness, the sweet brilliant black. the closed eye. think of becoming a monolith
or a butterfly.
Or a coffee can full of ash.
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