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I actually missed and felt nostalgic for Oakland so I ran to this screen to document c'est.
and Kent said that mark didn't really look pleased when willie trashed me as a crazy at his third wedding - and that makes me feel somewhat less unmoored.
I mean - fuck yes - I'm crazy yet it's so hard children to put that bullet in your head.
fashionably uninvited plays.
I remember you Wilmington
(even though this was a diatribe on Oakland)
I try so hard to make adequate mixed tapes for the new man I'm in love with while the nicest player plays.
caliente.
He thinks I have shitty music, and I can't disagree with him.
(but I do)
and I'll add some more pablum for this tableau you heathens.
what choice do I have?
die
or
write
thank gods? for the ability.
I often think of that guy - what was his name - the marquis de Sade - who wrote in his shit. It reminds me a bit of my sister in law.
The neighbor lady comes in her white truck and backs in like a fucking valkyrie.
What Joy it must be to believe you are worthy of love.
(and I think of the last time I was there - the very last day. the day I was losing my shit with all the fucking stuff... and taking two library books to the fabled lake meritt library and I did it. And having the goodbye party and the signed t-shirt by the girl who loved my art and all that and ... it felt nice. if "you don't really know me")
Oakland.
I was there.
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