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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