December 2011
10 posts
Pinot fucking noir. And a half gallon of bong water. And winter break in general. Great conversations and even better connections have been made within these sparse three weeks of freedom. Gives me the courage to plow forward with excellent resolve. So many improvments to make, and so make time, so much time it yawns before me like a great jaw, threaten to swallow my optimism. To i relent?...
Angel darlings you are so good to me, and believe me i appreciate it. But trust me when i say that imtimacy hasnt been good to me, but i move along like a straight 1940’s huslter, ya feel? Cause i sure dont, imma wait for the right lung to spike me when i come, but these people dont believe me when i say i’ve got freebees to spill, but best return when my spike comes to redeem the fun....
1 tag
bronze narazeth ft. the rza
nigga i’m ill,...
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Quicksand
David Bowie
This is my goodbye letter to you; fair drug of my fondest infatuations. I’ve broken free from the stoic readings of my philosophy texts and the attitude of avoidance to abscond out here to this mid-December backporch and type up some fond farewells. Firstly, i will mourn the loss of endless nighttime strolls to the accompanyment of noise-cancelling headphones that we often took together. Two am to...
I’m concenred that now that i’ve quit my job there will be nothing stopping me from purchasing a half-pint of Jameson every night for the rest of my life. This whole vendetta against inhebriation has gone horribly south since i enacted it around ten days ago. I suppose this is what happens when you try to quit multiple things at a single time, there simply isn’t enough...