| dewy decimal |
2003-05-05 - 1:20 p.m.
The doldrums are tropical. Lush, green, bright, saturated and impossibly hollow.
The sound of the sea is in every shell.
I spend all my money on alcohol. Bloody Mary�s, Johnny Walker, Steel Reserves, and Frosted Pitchers keep my walls wet. Damp carpets grow dark beneath the percolating ceilings. I stumble over these rocky nights, just so tired of myself. I drink to relocate myself. And when I�m found, I seem to have gotten farther and farther away. Soon I may just make that defining mad dash into an effacing imagination. I'm really quite indifferent.
Vanessa got me this T-shirt from LA with Jesus on a Harley. It�s pretty fucking rad. Its ironic but the shirt actually makes me feel closer to Jesus. Historically speaking.