June 14th 2017

05f7af135487a9b28771a22750d37053I don’t understand how I can I see this child telling me to buy this car. Doesn’t the adult in this commercial wake up with a cold sweat sometimes? Does the car fix this? Maybe it does because I haven’t bought anything like… I think I need a blood pressure medication because my heart is really going. This guy John who got me the methadone said I would need it and now I know he was right. But this is the guy who passed out onto his boston kreme donut. The place right across from the union square park. That is where I met him- him and his girlfriend. They both wore black and had a black rooster who they found in the cemetery. It kept shitting on their clothes that they stored in this ragged suitcase. They lived on the last stop of the R train in Queens. The landlord was some decrepit in a wheelchair who would shit himself constantly. They would buy him a handle of vodka everyday. Yet I wanted to hear their stories of riding the Union-Pacific railroad. Yet I was new to town and wanted to cop. Yet I was depressed. Wasn’t I in graduate school? This kind of proper path that had me spiraling towards my parents deaths? How come I came out of that vagina? How come everyone in my family has been laid? Here I am cutting logs out West and haven’t seen anyone in my family in months. Should I end it all? But I want to rock with you.

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