mmm, last night worked late, went to franks had a few beers, didnt go to daniel's party, ha! went home, got a phone call from another boy. other boy is grreat. same sense of humor. same. same. same. grrreat. sings to me. sings to me frank sinatra. and tells me hes not perfect. and im not. im not either, but he makes me feel like it. this all just began but its feel like its already something deep. something like love. i asked God for someone like Him, i really did. God blessed me. marissa called me at 3. rolling balls, and K. Horse tranqulizer? Hmm, something awfully

monday. work. tuesday. mass amounts of coke/e wed. recover. thurs. work/volleyball fri. shrooms. sat. recover/work whats it called when you do drugs becasue it's like, "a day at disney land" or, "being in love?" Some equivocal emotion to feeling. Really feeling. I was damned in the beginning. i'll be damned at the end. So a thought: People often say they do drugs to escape reality, which is to suggest that reality is in need of escaping. Always looming, reality never conforms to our ideals. Why is this? We find perfection, or excess stimulus in drugs. Without them we're all wallflowers. Look at you, going through your day, everyday. Striving for what? A picket fence and a smart car? 2 kids, and a loving husband? Going to the same job you hate, to a house that looks just like everyone elses. You have a good 75 years on this earth, and this is what your striving for? Living essentially the same life, experiencing essentially the same pain and love as everyone else. Why are we so dependent on conforming to this? Finding your place in this world a little too easily. Look around we're all in need of an escape. Boy from previous post went to Berekley. Miss Him. Luckily i put walls up very easily and possibly have a short attention span. Besides I have my other boys. He was just my favorite. i feel infinite. bukowski is a poet. best adjective for any poet literally is poet. The word implies beauty. Making hard things simple. Implies brilliance, and emotion. Doesn't imply perfection, but accepts disaster. i got asked to sketch/paint the walls for the animal shelter. I'm stoked. And i'm not going to draw dumb little paintings of dogs at parks with frisbees.i just wont. a temporary break a rocket lifting off the sun swooping you up in its wisdom, a cheap pink lawn chair really is a lady, and how did lucy get in the sky? why did John love her so? why can't he love me? an impulse unleashed an emotion unraveled a rush of stars, a childs dismay a sense of unity, the ebbing and flowing of the world connected excess stimulus rush of color wild and free in that moment, i swear we were infinite.