The queen. The moon. And then me.
That’s how you reach nirvana. I was a rock star in a past life. Sometimes it resurfaces. I walk up the slightly hilly driveway, seems like miles. The pressure builds from my groin through my fingers and toes. The stainless steel door stares at me. I’m nervous but I wipe it away because I remember that I am a rock king. Inside awaits my rock queen. Bullshit. The door opens and I can smell her...
I think I am a million miles away from you, in a parallel universe. It may be that I am LITERALLY a million miles away from you. The earth is a spec in my mission. The Milky Way slides away through my peripheral vision. There are storms and asteroids and all kinds of gnarly shit. I’m serious. I think I am a million miles away from you. And even from here, from this dastardly place...
My desk is full of papers. My head is full of noise. My eyes are filled with toys. See what I did there? These fucking papers though. Man. Fucking bills. Or notices. Or other such like things that just equal responsibility. Oh all this responsibility! Why? Like when did I sign up? See that’s bullshit! Why does it end? It comes and it just goes. With great power comes great responsibility, so they...
The power of now
How much darkness can you take, bottom line. You hit the ground running like so many have before, but that’s what it all comes down to. The darkness. Romantic to some. Frightening to others. Sexy even. But after so manny hours racing right along old 66, it starts to become the only thing that matters. “If I can only make it to sunrise,” you think to yourself....
He used to like to sit around and watch her use her big white teeth to scrape her soft lips of dead skin. She thought is was weird that he would watch. He thought it was weird that she would eat her own flesh. I guess the weird was the glue that held it all together. At least until those days when it would all fall apart. Those days when she realized she wanted more and he wasn’t good...
10/17 I walked out of Seven Psychopaths feeling ambivalent. Great because it was an awesome movie. Jesus, I sound like a 14-year-old schoolgirl. Really. Which brings me to my next point – I am not a writer. I mean I write, if this is writing. But my dreams of being a writer like Hemingway or even Woody Allen are unrealized. It was weird being at the Archlight without her. I mean I’ve been there...