November 2009
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oakland
cashed my checks at check n go, bought a half gallon orange juice at the liquor store, wandered around drinking it. its still sunny out here.
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“Mavis is a Mohawk woman missing her beloved musician husband Jesse Lightning. he vanished before her eyes in a thunderstorm. She has been in a catatonic state for the last three years and is starting to come back into the world. Mavis is also a painter. To bring Jessie closer to her, she is beginning to paint the stories he would tell her. As she paints she remembers Jessie being close to...
i just realized i came home from work earlier than i woke up yesterday
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how come retards have the best jackets?
why is asian leg hair so weird? who shot ya? questions we may never know the answers to no matter who we dose up to their eyeballs with sodium barbitol. but yesterday one of the earths great mysteries was answered: when am i gonna get my shit together. yes, it was only yesterday morning i was playing po’ folks on repeat to console myself about my upcoming welfare situation when lo! the...
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time to get up
for what?
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“Do i have any right to come after you with my mind filled with the junk of maybe...”
– things have been going well. i have been painting a bit and found new rooftops to scale, while in a trance. i went to my frist aztec dance class, i threw up in luis and jose’s kitchen sink last night.
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