I woke up.
I could feel
The world spin beneath me.
It was nauseating.
I put on the coffee
And read
"Nothing is true,everything is
Permitted."
-Sabbah
I took a gulp of black
And thought about
"Every existing thing is born without
reason,prolongs itself out of weakness,and dies by chance."
-Sartre.
I took a big gulp of black
Shaved the 2 month old beard
Then stood in the mirror.
A brand new animal.

Immortality
In 5 tall manic stacks
On the floor.
Locked in a
**** apartment
For a year
Forgetting the world
Discovering
The line.
They scar the soul.
They harden you.
They rip the *******
From your skull.
They get you ready
For what slithers
Out
There.
I often think about
All these books
Sitting neatly on a shelf
In a warm home
While I lie next to
A warm woman
One leg thrown over
Her soft ***
Forgetting that the books
Are even there.

"I gotta starve and pay taxes while
THESE people(roaches)live on welfare, mooching off of MY money...lazy..."
She frowned and shook her head.
She was very passionate about
That.
It's a trick.
They want you to feel
Pride
In doing menial tasks.
It has to be
Somebody's fault
That your stuck here.
I smile at the coworkers
With sweat on the forehead
And panic in the eyes.
Afraid of losing
This.
I smile at the welfare collectors.
They figured it out.
Stocking store shelves
Or
Sitting at home
There's no pride in
Either.
I've tried both.
It's all
Hell.
Everybody
Is too ******
Bitter.
They see the hands of lazy thieves
Where I see
The soft pink hands of laughing
Carnivores.
Oh well...
If you don't want to
Feed them
Just
Become one of them.
It's a
Trick.
I said
"Yeah, well...you gotta eat
Somehow."

Strength is an outward showing. If you think that anyone just feels like they can take on the world all of the time, you're wrong. Everyone is scared. Some people just push through it, in the hopes that it will inspire others to push forth as well, in the hopes that it will get better; it will get better. Create an epidemic of inner heroism, of inner strength. Sometimes you just have to do it. You just have to keep going, even when everything inside of you is screaming for you to stop. When others start believing you are strong, you will too.

My god
It CLACKS like a
*******.
Every key
Combusts like a homicide bullet
Hacks like a machete in 100 degree
Heat
Every word brings
Guilt,pleasure
The neighbors will surely
Pound on the walls
Going insane
From the power of
The typewriter.
I'm 24 in 2015
I've never touched one of these
Things.
When I brought it up to the counter
Of the 2nd hand store
The clerk was a few years younger
Than me
He looked at me like I was catshit
Crazy.
I also bought 2 1940s editions of
The Bronte sisters
That did not help my
Questionable  sanity...
I like this old thing
Every key is ******
And you must live with all your
Mistakes.

Drinking a pint
Celebrating Christmas's
Demise
Then remembering
There's still new years eve..
Remember last new years?
When the ball dropped
You were full of whiskey
Shirtless
In the cold
And all the couples
Started kissing
And you thought about
Her
And death
And wanted
To cry.
*****.
This year
When the ball drops
I'll
Take
Whoever
Is standing
Next to me.
Kisses
Or
Fists
It's all
The same.

Hemingway was real
Good at it.
And
Bukowski,London,Faulkner,Joyce,
McCullers
Fitzgerald,Thom­pson, Kerouac etc.
I've heard 20 year old
Girls
And
40 year old
Women
Speak ill
Of drunks.
I always want to ask
"What did you ever
Accomplish
Sober
That was so
Great?"
Fante always seemed real
Pure to me
The innocence
The young
Burning
Passion
Of his lines.
I read
A biography today
And even
Fante was a *******
Drunk.
I smiled
Exposing the missing tooth
In the back
Cracked the cap
And felt
Even more hopeful.
The blood of
Christ.