After the rain stops, the wind picks up. Forest brush, normally blocked by the towering old men of valley, gets up to stretch. I hear it hitting my tent, but I'm still fucked up from the night before. I can't really remember how many pills I took, the liquor I drank, the story I told (the dirty one with the dog that's not really true or the clean 7-liner that involves a can of Coke and basketful of soft-smelling laundry). It hurts to recall. Like a screwdriver digging into my left temple. The shit is making it difficult to recall how many tongues I had in my mouth last night or the number of times I took a piss (and the fact that I have a full bladder right now only adds emphasis). What was that blue pill again? Sheena, who I should say isn't a punk rocker and really is quite bland, dropped it into my palm after I complained about monotony. She said it's left over from her trip to Brussels and that if I wanted to shake things up, I'd swallow it. I remember thinking how fucked up it was. This bitch, the girl with the oily brown hair (and not oily in the dirty sexy kind of way, but more so in the library bitch that doesn't realize social norms, (and my God and for christ's sake, dye your hair. it should be, no, it HAS to be black if you want any sort of sexual recognition!) is giving me recreation advice by-way-of narcotics. The blind is giving me directions based upon visual landmarks. Got to be goddamn kidding me. Either way like an idiot, I geared up enough saliva, just enough to halt any gag reflexes, and took the goddamn blue pull. I think it had a happy face imprinted on it's rounded side. but as it approached my gaping face hole, it looked like a frown. Think I had it upside down.

Dude had a Jew-fro. Not sure about his religion, but if i ever saw a jew-fro, he was sportin it. Tight and curly with ray-bans inside. Inside? Yes, indeed, it was 2 in the afternoon. Big hair, shades indoors, and a tight purple, maybe pink, tank top. Oh and some sort of jangly metal contraption that hung loose and low on a chain around his neck. Like near his belly button. Just chilling above his belt (actually, where his belt would have gone if he was wearing one). He talked fast and loved the sound his own mouth made. Voice like annoyance. If annoyance talked, it’d be this necklace wearing jew-fro bro. Cutting clear through the stuffed up air. Cut straight through and hit me. Every fucking word he said. Who did this guy think he was? I met him, I met her. Dude had lunch with Kanye. Or maybe he just saw him perform at an intimate, but formal mind you, late night jam session. John Legend apparently accompanied yeezy. Name drop, name drop, John Legend on piano, Kanye on the mic. Mother fucker with da curly hair wearing shades, just bragging. All day everyday. My new nemesis.

new post new post new post. 4 drinks in, I watched the television radio all night. Blurred vision and the warnings of a headache. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. This life is far from perfect. chalk problems up to money and women and lack of both or lack of stability or overdose of each. Different times of course. So many shitty bands cross my curvy path all day. So many. Like you can take a lot, then add a lot more. That's how many. And every goddamn one of them still habitats myspace. that and asians. there are so many on myspace. im not writing for my own purpose. shit overlaps shit i suppose.

Rooftop viewing, a belly filled with a holiday’s offerings. The poor and the rich, the pure and the stained. Crackling, popping, fire and noise. As dusk flips over, shit gets crazy this time of year. Kaleidoscope nights. Burnt rainbow heights. Every 4th I’m reminded why I get a hard on for Chicago.

When the lady asked my name, i was hesitant to respond. Eyes that lead every question made me so. With music playing loud, the macbook shook with enthusiasm. Steven, i said. My name is steven. You can call me Adam. WTF? her look read. WTF? her body said. One swift kick to the shin left will leave a bruise, but one swift kick to the chin will make bone break. Or turn black. Bone black you freak. Then wired shut, then maybe stupid fucking questions will never be posed. Outside the walls, just on the other side of the door, whispers and laughs run galore. Hang my body, tie the noose, let my problems give to the floor. I can rhyme Drake and I'll never thank you later. Not even now. Everyone knows you're the crippled kid from degrassi. Doctor you up, thug you up. Never going to change. you're always gonna be two-wheeled jim jim.

In my dreams I'm a paraplegic video vixen.

DJ NAME: PARAPLEGIC VIDEO VIXEN or DEPENDS ON MENS

Today i stamped out a baby bird like the last dying ember of a lit cigarette.