no sleep high. celebtrity gossip. Angelina Jolie kissing her brother. "Do you think that they were maybe doing drugs? Could that explain some of their behavious?" says one lady to another.
"All done Captain?" says the waitress to the man dressed as a sailor.

skateboarding uphill against the wind in the hot afternoon sun with a bag of tutelary clothes for my job on wednesday. there are more tigers in people's back yards than there are in the wild. silky hens, colourful rooster. "walls can become bridges or ladders of fire". it's never too late in the early morning warning signs über loud cell phones, quiet purr of the train skating down the tracks. rat gets the cat no wifi no cell phone. she's all persona an effigy a wannabe she's got a well hidden soul. i'ts not gonna happen all at once. trusting my intuition. aware of my lack of awareness, social skills are on the way. love. love. self-love, self-honour. satiate the beast. next stop: centaur. crocodiles, kangaroos, spiders and dingoes, banskias and dancing snakes. stop interrupting. relax. be real. who are you talking to brain? get out of my mind. I hate small talk.

Jack n the Box 2 bottles of boot sky vodka Venice Beach loud fans fanny pack hunt weird town i meet him in a dark motel room like a batcave, sitting on the bed playing violin along to music coming from a small amplifier fed by his laptop. we're lying on the bed talking when he opens the door and enters like we're old frineds standing with his fingers suspended in mid air spread open like he's clutching a cigarette with his broken tooth mouth open and his hungry delerious eyes, pock-marked skin and sin and and we don't mind but we don't have a cigarette for him and it's hot inside so it's nice to have the door open, he talking fast and slurred and his poor wiry body is twisted like an old bird.

later when we leave we go out to a restaurant and eat deep fried pickles and too many cupcakes and the waitress thinks that we stole one of the condiments so she kicks us out and i'm so angry and ranting outside in the street. Rose Avenue. We spend 3 hours in the supermarket and he has too many bangs and too many oranges to carry. then we lie in the bed eating more cupcakes. care bear stares and used wares, and no underwear Jem, Jericha, Kimber, Riot, Nirvana, smores, more cupcakes, so many cupcakes! he smells like oranges and earth deleriously blue eyes, cat eyes wide, nothing fazes him, screaming i love you to his laptop they take him to the hospital. flaxen locks, alabamba twang and surfer slang, slacker, hacker, hot icy wolf eyes, he tracks my entire body breathes out hard when he laughs and throws my legs up over his head