anxiety, art, bipolar, substance abuse

what a way to meet california!

i was here for the quake in ’89. what a way to meet california! i stayed. they wanted to force me back into their lives, ellie especially. i knew better. i drank my self into the ground before i got away. being sharp witted and full of dreams i walked the way from the motel to the groups of families. i had to take a xanax.

Back Camera

for the uninitiated the world of men waiting on corners with twenty six dollars in their hands don’t make sense. i get it completely. some times are so desperately fast and sometimes so desperately slow. wanting wanting wanting time to pass. regretting that you spent so much time unconscious.

being alone is not an option. who would put lotion on my back? our families are drowning in illness. doesn’t look good for us as we get older. but as we get older, we care less.

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