Tell me do you think it’d be all right
If I could just crash here tonight
You can see I’m in no shape for driving
And anyway I’ve got no place to go...

Tomorrow we can drive around this town
And let the cops chase us around
The past is gone but something might be found
To take its place...hey jealousy

So it's been a little bit. Probably a month or something? I don't know. I didn't check the date on the last entry.

I'm sure all of you know what has happened in the recent history of my life but I would like to keep it that; history.

I'm still writing. Still reading. Vonnegut is definitely on my list of favorite authors at the moment.

So drop me a line sometime. We can talk about books.

Or, maybe not.

Much love to those who have stayed close to me in the trying past couple of weeks in my life.

Otherwise, fuck off. I still hate you.

ah ha ha.

"Sometimes we require explanations. We feel as if we have to account for our longings, successes, shortcomings, goals and questions in some tangible manner. What we do, what we eat, if we smoke, what we wear, where we live, what we watch, what we believe in, how we abuse ourselves. Who we pay attention to, who we don’t, who we fuck, who we marry, and how we die are all in need of some methodical system of steps and strides and checks and balances in order to figure ourselves out. Whose occupation is it to keep in check all of the excesses and tragedies of culture? Some leave that responsibility up to a God……"

I'm writing again.

I'm sleeping again.

I'm finally breathing again.

I'm going to Arkansas tomorrow. Maybe. See family, bullshit like I'm still the nice kid i used to be.

When was that? I don't know.

Keep tuned. From the dark minds of Steve Feld, Ben Cook, and I is coming a zine of gigantic proportions, offensive comics, drug and alcohol induced short fiction, and fucked up photographs. The world will never be the same.

I'm still around, in real life, by the way. So drop me a line. I just got a new phone, same digits, fuck off and call me.

So I'm gonna sign off for yet another reasonably spaced out undefined amount of time. If you'd like to contact me, you know how, and if you don't, fuck off.

'night you fucks.

So what have I been up to? Well I certainly wouldn't consider it "living" by any stretch of the imagination. Merely staying alive, keeping the bodily functions moving. The heart beats, the mind thinks (nothing tends to come out anymore), I take a piss, I take a shower, smoke a bowl, and I sit. It's not a horribly awful life to lead, is it? I mean, I could  be robbing stealing murdering and just generally fucking people over. Or is it worse? Hmmm. We'll have to ponder that.

Anyway, I'm going back to school soon. Getting my goddamn high school diploma. I'll also have more writing done soon.

With much more to say, but no energy to speak it with, I bid thee farewell.

Fuck Off.

And this girl who I met whose pride makes her hard to forget,
She took pity on me (horizontally) but most likely because of my band.
It's all I can get when I'm lonely and these visions of death seem to own me
In the quiet of the classrooms all across the stacked United States of Woe. We live with woe.
She said "I can't get laid in this town without these pointy fucking shoes.
My feet are so black and blue and so are you."
Please take me out of my body up through the palm trees to smell California in sweet hypocrisy.
Floating. My senses surround my body. I wake my nose to smell that ocean burn.
So now I'm forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out.
Go sob in your bed. If life is twice as pretty once your dead then send me a card.
I'm still the optimist though it is hard when all you want to be is in a dream.