Oh, lurid San Francisco, harsh in your corners and abandoned doorways
Tuesday’s got feeling
Much to my own distaste, I’m sitting in a bar alone on St. Patrick’s Day, drinking a fucking Guinness.
Christmas stew for the bitter and barefooted
I’d make it with bare feet on wooden floors and retroactively, read the fucking recipe so that it doesn’t burn
Plumbing malfunctioning
The plumbing in this building is much like me, each pipe and tube has a purpose, always slightly malfunctioning
Sad, Sad Girl
And it’s time to move on, time to let time move me, to fall back into it, gracefully
Scientifically, I Shouldn’t Be Here
She’s got the perfect angular jawline and high cheekbones to rock a shaved head, though she didn’t ask for this cut. A man in a Cadillac Escalade made that decision for her.
A Bumbling Fool and a Man with a Wife
Sitting alone in this brown wooden chair with the beige upholstery, the one that connie purchased for me.
so far from enlightenment, so close to bliss
Feeling frustrated, over stimulated, like too many thoughts and obsessions and fantasies and perceptions of myself and what I want to be and what people think of me […]