I do not deny myself, I just sit down and write about it, until I expose to myself. I might be more trouble than I look, Just keeping it real. And it’s the only way I know how. I’m fine, I’m disgusted with my life and myself, but I’m not unhappy about that. It’s like living beyond my means.  Of course I do have those days where I feel like tired and about to fall out, and I’m in deeply in touch with those emotions. And definitely there are some images which I don’t want floating around my head, but they seem like a bullet in my head, except with less ice. 

      Life is complicated, and that’s all I’ve got. The person that I want to have everything to do with, wants nothing to do with me. The woman that I love is out there and I know I can't have her. It’s quite hard even get up in the morning. But the booze is always helpful and so is the art. Everything that I write is either for her or about her. So I'm with her, even when I'm not.


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