Eventually everything I have to tell will be told, worthy or not, whether it will find a receptive audience or not, I don’t care. It’s all in the telling for me now. If a tree falls in the forest…indeed. You will listen. You may not like what you hear, you’ll likely be bored to tears, let me tell you my friend: you should try having lived this pointless, directionless life. I envy you, and I don’t even know you. If I can’t have your life I will try to unload some of mine onto yours. I don’t care if you want to hear it or not. I am grabbing you by the collar, pulling you in close, you can smell my foul breath, you can see my dirt filled pores, you try to wiggle free but I have the strength of the psychotic and I’m leaning in on you, saying, you gotta hear this, buddy…
2 thoughts on “…”
Looking forward to your fictionalized autobiography. Maybe something along the lines of Celine or Bukowski. Would buy the Kindle version in a heartbeat.