I’ll be here all night. Figuring some stuff out. Experimenting with some dark matter. See you at sunrise. I don’t even know what im going to write. Couple topics, some old memories, some future events that will never happen but be remembered more than those that did. I was going to keep editing but fuck man, that is where the word writer comes from. I need to bleed tonight. I need to be an artist tonight. I share my weirdness in this strange echoing blood-lust world, and so it goes…
I’ll be tapping typing drinking smoking and falling into the rabbits hole. Back to what I do. This trying to fit into a box hasn’t worked and so I run with what I’ve been doing for so long now. I’ll post the entire project around seven thirty in the morning. Unedited. De Trop.
Adventures In American Writing 