I’m not sure I have it, if it comes at all, it is fleeting at best. People tell you how to use words, let you know how you affect them, which, in essence, really has nothing to do with you. So you waste a lot of time on that.

But the thing that gets me is the just surviving part, and I kind of get it, looking into the window at the well-dressed, very dry women in the high, maybe medium-end sushi restaurant, downstairs, you have to descend into it, while I trudged by in my rubber – at least there’s that — boots, very wet over-sized (from when I had alcohol chub) Levi’s, and a rain coat that is thin and barely waterproof. Women completely dry with giant umbrellas, all the better to poke your eye out.

This is life in L.A. one month Whole Foods as  your soul bleeds into no sleep and having to be creative on command, know what to do, to being hungry, losing money you had set aside, diligently, for food, it’s like there’s a Puck in my life, I don’t understand where things go in a literal shoebox dwelling where the tv barely works because of downtown signals? Amplitude? Frequency.

Ah, there it goes. Sun Flare over? I wondered today if you had 23.75 hours to figure out what story to tell about the human race, what would it be?

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