I never caught this for some reason but “The Poison” by Pedro the Lion ends with:
My old man always swore that hell would have no flame
Just a front row seat
To watch your true love pack her things and drive away
I mean, goddamn that’s just killing it for me right now. I think had I read/heard that several years ago back in Boston it would’ve been over for sure. Mmmmm.
So distracted lately from false and insanely neurotic thoughts. Almost always nervous, for no good reason–smoking cigarettes like I’m about to quit. I’ve thought of ways to focus:
- Go in to seclusion except for school
- Punch myself repeatedly in the genitals
- Have said genitals removed becoming a eunuch
- Recreational chemicals
- Self-administered lobotomy (counter-productive for creativity)
Although I feel better making that list, I doubt any of it would really even work. Perhaps I should just ride my bike around a bit.