still love.  

still love,

a few burittos

my brain or body keeps thinking it's hungry because of my recent behavior. It's all impulse. Having difficulty with my output, the writing.  Nothing too concrete, I keep falling over, trying to get some momentum going

still love,

still love,

a few burritos

Love for others is important these days.  Reading the news is like the beginning of some type of apocalypse, a brownie apocalyse

Last night I felt one of the most beautiful feelings of my life, when I gave up and let it out.  It was all impulse.  I knew if keep living for myself, I'll destroy myself, and it'll burn like hell.  I'll be so busy enjoying it, I won't give anyone a chance to love me. I cried the whole time on my bicycle ride home—well, I also stopped in a diner for a Thanksgiving dinner and had been up for a few days but whatevrr.  I was so happy, crying and singing for you; crying in there, too, smiling at people, talking to my food like they were little children, it was a sappy movie; I felt you were with me, and down the street, the people in other homes could hear it, the ecstasy in yearning.  I took a selfie for you while riding, it's on my phone.  I have tears and look worn, but there is joy erupting from my eyes.  And I'm just looking at you.

I gave up last night.  By 4PM the next evening, I was going to call my dealer again.  Fuckin' Santa Monica has the most beautiful people.  But in my brain, it gets corrupted and vulnerable.  Whatever I do today, is not enough for tomorrow.