what i'm drinking tastes like oil.
back here and thinking constantly.
the kind of bed where that's possible,
even when not wanted.
i moved the bed around, maybe to get a new perspective,
maybe just to fill the time.
they keep playing the same song upstairs,
i can hear it through the ceiling-
i might play the same song, but louder,
as if a competition can fuel the night (T.I.- whatever you like)
(happening right now)
reading Tom Robbins, Skinny Legs and All.
going to get through,
with Kanye West
and the Kinks.
and sunshine superman,
you know that guy.