It’s been my bestfriend. I’ve been so scattered. But I’m alive, eventhough I don’t feel like it. I feel like I’m workin for the man as Roy would put it. The time I do have off I’m trying to make up for it. When I get off of work nothing’s open that I would like to attend. Stop complaining, but I can’t stop complaining. I keep looking for things that are familiar to me. I need to stop doing that. Comfortable.
This is where I’ve been. Exploring the streets and people of New york. This city’s a beast. Swallowing you like hungry, drooling thieves. You sometimes feel like you’ll never get out alive. But am I better off in the candle lit stomache I call home?
I’ve been reading too much Mr. Robinson.
Advertisement
