attica

Well. Time to get my shit together.

I'm working my ass off. Coffeesluthood is rough.

I'm going to Chicago next month. Get back on the 15th. Then I finally get to move out of my shithole apartment. Then I'll live in a lovely house and be able to ride my bike to one job and rest my Delta 88.

It'll be a lot easier to produce a show out of the basement when I fucking LIVE there.

And so I'll work on Mass Debate and save up for A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE. I know nothing about the damned contraptions and I've never wanted one until yesterday's epiphany. I will ride it across the desert with a reproduction Thriller jacket and a Soviet army helmet. Next spring is the goal.

gimmick > substance

But that gives me a year to sit on the porch and get drunk and smoke cigarettes and tend gardens and fall in love with myself and out of love with the past. I am promised to the future and I will wait faithfully.

I'm also going to sell my material soul on Ebay. Sentiment is a heavy burden, and I'll always be a moderate packrat/obsessive collector, but it is currently out of control.

I'm bored with writing this.