To my amazement I keep on waking up alive. This realization may sound odd to some, but not to someone who falls asleep every night positive that she will not wake to see another morning. To that person, it’s just another day. Tis the Brain Clouds. Tis the death that surrounds me. Tis my genetic disposition to catastrophes. You pick, I’m too tired.
I need a vice. I’m no Gia, so heroine’s out of the question. I’m not a pussy, so buying a twelve dollar bottle of wine I can’t pronounce and drinking it down as I pretend I’m the adult I never became will not suffice. I’ve been thinking about writing a children’s book with my favorite homo as the illustrator. The main characters would be a hippo and a snake. If you know he and I, you then know how fitting those animals are. And no, I’m not the snake!
It’s just that this thinking about dying all damn day bullshit is getting old. Which says to me that I’m board. Board out of my fucking mind and I need to do something to correct that. And so the quest for a new vice begins. I think I already have an idea of where I’m headed.
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