at least I'm not shitting blood again

[spit_oil]

Do not get stoned, have sex with a boy who is telling you that you are beautiful and he does not know why it won't go up, smoke a cigarette with him go home and put on Arab Strap, your favourite band when you were sixteen, and the only music you were really proud to know about and the music that was your favourite when you met Charlie and when you were dating him and the first song you ever listened to in your apartment was Arab Strap's "Cherubs" and the only noise complaint you ever received was for that song's thumping heart, thumping much too loud, and sit and think about him and that he's you know and that he's you know forever and you're going to go to bed to the music you would listen to when you dated Julian, and the first music that you were ever complimented about, by that guy, on the bus who liked Matador Records and you would read Bukowski Poetry books in one sitting on the subway and write your own poetry in green sharpie in the covers of Hubert Selby Jr. (and when you left Charlie you went to Portland and Powells and you bought an autographed first-edition copy of "Last Exit To Brooklyn") and the music your sister and you listened to when you were homeless and living in a hotel and you were given 200$ to spend on her for her birthday and you took her up to the Haight and she lost it all when her wallet was stolen -- it is fucked up bittersweet sad, all of this.

Do be really happy and talk about your art and be manic and be a narcissist in the best kindof way telling people that you love yourself and that you're attacking high fashion culture and that you're making high fashion drug paraphernalia and have side-kicks and awesome weekends and DJ and be so witty and have inside jokes and go from homosexual to heterosexual-curious because you realize that it is only genitalia.