Those Hollywood kids got it made...

Lately I want to be free. I have a large picture of Medellin on my desktop. I focus on a small part of it, noticing that there's a Texaco in Medline  We went out to a club a couple of weeks ago and met some Colombians from Medellin. I pronounced it wrong, they corrected me and I said it right. They commented on how good my pronunciation was. She was a sexy porn star looking type. He tried to suck my dick in the bathroom under the  pretense of something else. My cock was like a scared turtle. I told him he was wasting his time so he stopped. We went back out and it all fell apart with her. My wing man was for shit. I've been thinking about LA. That's where they were flying to later that night. I've been thinking about going somewhere else lately. Just going anywhere. I miss having that kind of freedom. We went to Puerto Rico recently and I excelled. I kind of feel like I would excel anywhere now. It's like I've become accustomed to being an international player. I've traveled this pity country over and over. Crisscrossing it doing stupid shit so many times over. After that I went to SE Asia. I became numb there. Before I went I was ready to die. I was being looked for by the law. I had no money, no prospects, nothing left to lose. I gained an appreciation out there for an American life that I thought was right. Now that I'm back. I just don't know. I tried, but it's fuck all. I want to go again. Anywhere real. Anywhere but here. I would even settle for whoring around LA.

We'll Laugh Till The Tide Creeps In

Deckchairs and cigarettes. So many moments. So many drinks. SO many different lives; yet all so similar. I look back on all of it so reminiscently. I try to categorize it all; yet it's all kind of weird. I've done so many drugs with so many people. I've had sex with so many people. I've shared niche life stories with so many people. You know it all seemed so important at the time, it also seems so important right now too.

2003. It was New Jersey. I was living a life there. It involved alcohol. It involved weird sex. It was really flaky. I made a new friend named Carl. We would go to Chubby's and scam on girls. We had fun. I told him one day I was leaving for another life. He became withdrawn. We compared dick sizes one night. He still was mad I was leaving. He didn't want to be friends anymore. When I came back he was antagonistic and unfriendly. That cut me deep. It upset me more than, the girl I left behind, cheating on me the night before I left. I always knew I would leave her. She must have know it too. She came out to Arizona once shortly after I left there. It was a strange trip. Kind of a lull through the desert night. I soon met other girls out there and forgot all about her. It only seems natural now. There were two weeks of loneliness. There was a week of drinking hard and reaching out. One day I met some people and a new life stemmed from that. Days later I met two other groups of people. From that I would blossom into another person. One group drugs; like home. One group freedom and individuality; it was new. The first group clean, nice people like I'd never known. I'd eventually end up with the clean folk. First the drug people went; edged out by the individuals. But the underbelly would linger. I fucked a prostitute. I smoked crack. I snorted coke. I smoked heroin. This all comes later though. Funny enough, the individuals became consumed by heroin; unrelated to my indulgences though. Before that I whittled it down to the clean kids. By that I mean we just went out every Friday and Saturday and got blackout drunk. More specifically, we would drink multiple pints of stiff Red Bull and vodkas until things became ridiculous. I eventually met this half Puerto Rican/Irish chick and had a minor relationship with her while having romantic feelings for a Canadian neighbor I did opiates with.

 I remember one night I ended up having sex with a girl that I met from the individual/punk crowd. She was going door to door giving out cupcakes and she came into my place and observed how all my cabinet doors were open and how it bothered her and she felt compelled to close them. Later she felt compelled to fuck me. I don't even remember it. I don't remember the position, the circumstance, or even most of her, just that moment and that she was about my height with long curly dark brown hair. There were a lot of girls like that. I may have forgotten about a third of the girls I've had sex with. Most of it never really mattered and that's probably why. I just remember stupid occurrences like when I fucked the neighbor across the hall. She had only lived there for about a week. I think she was some sort of a hooker or drug addict, some strange pimp looking creature would come around occasionally. One night we were drinking and playing loud music with the door open and she made it over. Everyone else seemed to go while I was waiting on a chick to come pick me up to go to the bar. Only her and I were left. I was playing some new London grime music that she was digging; JME or Wiley. We danced, we stripped, we fucked. The girl that was coming to get me knocked on the door while we were wrapping up. I put my dick back in my pants, unlocked the door, sat down casually on the couch and said come in. She came in, the neighbor went home, and we went to the bar. That neighbor moved out a week later.

Things like that would just happen frequently. People would come and go. Random sex would happen constantly. I lived in a gentrifying neighborhood. I would always hold court to drug addicts, drug dealers, drinkers, pimps, sex fiends, hoes, and partyiers all alike. The nights would dwindle into daylight and repeat. These were halcyon days; whatever that means. This is only 1%. Unbelievably there's 99% more.

People said we monkey around, but nobodies listening now.