planning on hitting rock bottom
None of today's writers have hit rock bottom, that's why we don't have any bukowski or kerouac or mailer blow your mind shit coming our way. I'm going to fix this, 8.5 years from now I will move to Amsterdam and blow my mind and then find a better one and start writing good shit for everybody out there that misses good shit. I'm going to write about ten day benders and women with loose morals and traveling to places where life is cheap and good times are even cheaper. I'm going to write about amazing wine and tasty food and good beer served by somebody with a bad ass mustache. I'm going to write about ugly women with beautiful minds and the conversations we have on trains. I'll write about beautiful women and horrible conversations we have in villas overlooking the ocean. And then I'll meet a beautiful women with a beautiful mind and I won't write for a while because I'll be busy with her. But when that butterfly is done flapping it's wings I'll get back to the writing. I'll write about forest fires and rebirth, palm trees and sand and monkey who throw shit at you. Guess I better get back to reality, but someday, someday.