1. Friday, April 18, 2003

    rarely do i smoke 

    but sometimes i do and all the ladies in the house will say ho.

    one time a friend of mine tried to commit suicide and i drove that person to the hospital and i sat on the curb with an ambulance driver and he let me bum a smoke, and then another. and then one more.

    there have been a few times here at the xbi where i have had that urge, but i never followed up on it. to smoke, that is.

    until this morning, when the whole stratosphere collapsed around me and everything became super slow motion and i used my superpowers against evil and i was able to matrix the bullets and bend over backwards and fire back while doing gymnastics and to remind them who the fuck they were dealing with i jumped to the next building like crouching tiger and pulled off the split kick flip landing on my hands and holding that pose with my feet pointing out.

    then i popped back on my feet and spit through my teeth.

    dug through the pockets of one of the bleeding assailants and took out an american spirit and threw the rest of the pack at his chest.

    lit it with the adrenalin that was shooting out of my pupils leaned against the rail of the balcony and pulled a long drag

    and released it.

    a little bird said he was going through some shit himself and asked for a hit which i gladly obliged.

    tweet tweet tweet tweet. that damn bird wouldn’t shut up. talking about how the crows eat his eggs and how his wife doesn’t like the nest.

    how she says that the worms taste “funny.”

    funny how?

    she wont tell me. she just says “funny.”

    so i put the rest of the cigarette on the edge of the table and went on my way realizing that life could be worse.

    you could be walking around with no hands forced to eat funny tasting worms all day.

    the coyote’s bark + bunsen + tiffany