survived missile attacks back and forth, over the forty ninth parallel
survived rogue soldiers in the streets, shooting automatics
bitter comedy routines acted out in chains hanging from the roof
drinking and puking into a glass of everclear to die and be re-animated
raz revenge, hiding a guy in the shed who was at the party
where i was disgraced (it happened twenty to fifty times)
to sting me, but after a few prayers, to god and the devil and my torturer
i saw the guy was a lowball charlatan, paid-off
psychotic meltdown, public masturbation in the side-yard
ex-lovers, mortal enemies, hell-bent on causing maximal misery
apartments, affordable, independence for externals
where my memory is burned, smoked with coke
survived a throat full of battery acid
driven away by the construction foreman, operating limbs by smell
diabetes ropes hung from highrise windows down to machines
swinging in the air, sunk in the ocean
compelled to dig through soiled information, things lying around
buried bacteria-slathered treasure, malicious pranks, no mercy
denver was destroyed, biohazardous material
montreal will pay, and it's my fault, it'll be traced
if it hasn't already, it's catching up, i'm fucked
a demonstration of my weakness on the asphalt playground
might as well sleep another three hours, intervals of yelling dad
a perfect symmetry, hell is my fault, opt-in, opt-out, no escape
cooler guy in the newer life, drawn with vague tracers over the net, here and there, up to this and that, back again, like the recurring dream, the knot of friends, mutually sour on me, 300 dollar rent and drugs
bad dreams
skylight on every ceiling in the famous neighbors' house - an open house - climbing from clear roof to roof, forgetting disgrace with the photographer
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Got no one to talk to, so I’m venting online. So, I really tried to hustle this week. Applied to five places. Even with the xanax it was har...
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Actual composition instead of an hour-long improv indulgence, 'sbeen a while. I wanted to call it The Dandy Whoremonger, but settled on ...
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Doing a writing exercise, I guess, is what I'm doing. Because I've hardly written anything for months. Since I got sober, yet again....
not paranoid when you should be just one of my normal keyboard improvisations, nothing special, except that it's recorded on a real grand.
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