(I’ll write more about this, in a more literary style soon, but so, last year around this time I was just relaxing after fear and loathing in Chicago for a couple of days on the streets. And I remember two nights ago when I was in the pits of the T on the edge of Boston, I was like how the fuck did you get here man, what the fuck, why does life hate me so much and my eyes got kinda puffed up because it felt real lonely and real dirty and dismal, but well…when in rome and then later on I was running around with this Kid named jose from Puerto Rico in china town and I didn’t ask for him to follow me to Walgreens either, but whatever. Boston is cool. Maybe I’ll go back someday. Next time not on a literary adventure with the Russians. that would be nice. I didn’t sign up for any of this nonsense, but hey, space camp aint easy. (there are many more details of what I just did for the past 6 days, and I’ll write a book about it someday I think.
Adventures In American Writing 