September 2011
2 posts
Day 17…skies decribed as perfectly blue by my predecessors now permanently tinged with shit stains of smog, and coal and mom’s hairsrpay and whatever fumes are given off in the making of those little spongebread cakes with creme filling them.. Train tracks of smoke cross each other across the sky. North to south appears to run head into an east west track and I silently bet that if...
when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.
Strange times. Strange times indeed. What does on say about such an unusually long hiatus? Nothing. Keep plugging and let the world figure out how much trouble they’re in. Drug free now, and the only problem resulting from that is that a good many people will quickly come to realize I’m much more dangerous when sharp minded and clear than i ever was smoking. A 9 day detox plan via a...