I can't let a bottle of Johnny walker sit on top of my fridge for a week. Had the worst two dreams of my life last night, it was the first time I can remember hyperventilating, sober. I think there's something in the weed though. So I got up at 2am after the second one and swore off everything and cursed myself for awhile and then read till it was ( Read more... )

I feel very much like a cat today. All I seem to want is to lie around and stretch, and then lie back down, curl up into a ball and contemplate the true meaning of the sun's warmth, not so warm to be sweating, just enough to make me feel loved by something. I spent a good six hours today dreaming about whatever it was on the radio, too much pink ( Read more... )

don't want to go to sleep. have to get up at eight tomorrow berfore class so that I can act a fool in another one of emily's goddamned movies, apparently I get angry and kick a car that is almost going to hit me...(without damaging it? without damaging me?) Last time she did chip in very generously for beer... No butts left to roll cigarettes out ( Read more... )

sitting here in my canvas sling chair, sipping coffee just like anselmo used to make out on the range on those cold mornings when his goat was making the morning extra difficult. How is it out there in the sun-shine state? I hope Yancey is keeping those damn frogs of his away from your boathouse, but as they say, you can only torch them when they' ( Read more... )

yesterday I was walking down michigan and get this, I HEARD BIRDS CHIRPING. FUNNY NO BIRDS CHIRPING IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD. WHY? BECAUSE THE NEAREST TREE IS TEN BLOCKS AWAY. NOT EVEN A RAT MUCHING OWL WILL COME TO MY NEIGHBORHOOD. JUST FUCKING PIDGEONS!!! PIDGEONS DON'T CHIRP! THEY GOBBLE LIKE CHICKENS AND fly away ( Read more... )

Nothin' moved.

Don't go to fat-pie.com. Marijuana cures hangovers? A long hot bath with a big huge book and a case of beer in the afternoon. Espresso. Mozart, Mahler, Tchaikovsky, and Charlie Parker. Yep. OK. Love, Henry.

so, ah- we're playing open mics. mm. sexy huh? ah, can i smell your sweet spot?

I am unsatisfied with hanging out. I the urge to move around has become a need, and the tendency to space out is deplorable. I mock you, all you hangers, I point my finger and laugh at your incessant talking and corousing and laughing at those hard practiced jokes and tidbits and oh this one time my friend bob and me were down by oh I remember that ( Read more... )

once upon a time there was a boy named henry and girls couldn't stand him so he moved to tibet and became a monk. he couldn't stand the other monks he called them a bunch of hacks and they kicked him out of the monastery. he bounced around china for awhile still wearing monk robes till he got lost for a long time and ended up on a mountain next to ( Read more... )