My thoughts, sprinkle images throughout the dayDon’t stop, never stop, always in motionGet up. I have a headache Oh I have to shit, brush my teethGet dressed, what am I gunna wear?Should I match? Who cares no one looksHave to shit again. Third time this m...
***Text Message from "Cap:" Yeah, dude, hurry up. Come through"Johnny looked back up at the row of greeting cards. "Her Birthday: Mother from Son"Johnny had been in the store for the last 20 minutes trying to pick out the perfect card to go with his perfe...
We drive up the east coast in an old Cadillac where, as the drivers change, I try to convey to you thoughts which are abstract, but articulated like a bike tire going flat-a silent hisssssssss till you press down and there's no firm contactand what was or...
You wake up and you aren't happy to be in the same place...the same 50 inch room with the same beds and the same damn windows and the same fucking hard, wooden floor. And you're sick of all those voices in your head, and outside of it, telling you to shut...
You ever really wonder how sand wound up on the beach? (I dont mean actually scientifically, but generally) like it was some happy turn of chance or some random coincidence and no amount of words could describe it not even in a best-selling textbook of s...
Vision of youth (before things go to shit):me and you, and you're swinging me on your shoulderas if you'd love me forever...you'd never let me go...slip...break a bone...scar fleshMy mother's brother...my uncle...my role model...drug addict.We'd play fris...
I dont miss waiting in parking lots for 40 minuteswatching the people go out and in and wonderingif any of them see you,see what you're doingand what you're going to doI don't miss the ever-decreasing weight of my wallet;The way everything always seemed t...
Jesse looked out from the rooftop of a Brooklyn apartment building towards the New York City skyline; it was the highest building in Bushwick. He drank in the crisp May air like it was Vodka...burning his insides and making him warm. Staring at the Empire...
Even though you can't (or just don't) see this...I miss youI dont eat right anymoreI dont sleep right anymoreI dont do a lot of things right anymoreI dont tell anybody, why botherwords spread like a virus with multiple hostsI'm happy as far as they know.....
I feel like I should...no, wait; I feel obligated to set the record straight on my view on women; The old goddesses. Because I have been known to publicly spew comments which seem to be of pure "this kid's got mommy issues" essence. The thing is...I hate...
Today, we had a revelation about something. We call ourselves writers...but isn't writing with a pen and a paper? I don't know, is it? Techinically, what are we? What can we call ourselves? Typers? We're typers...new age enthusiasts...typing away 500 word...
“Listen Adam, before we start this conversation you need to tell me right now what happened to your arm.”PauseStare“...and the truth...”Pause“..all of it.”PauseTake sip of beerAdam: “Fine. I...”“Look, I won't get mad I promise. Just tell me...please?”Slig...
