Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.

-twentysomething
-connoisseur of celluloid dementia
-new, unusual things
-just your average Thundercats-ho

Helping to manage a modeling agency in Pittsburgh. Running from death.

Independence is my happiness, and I view things as they are, without regard to place or person; my country is the world, and my religion is to do good.

I was willing to marry her and bring her baby daughter and all if she divorced the mechanic; but there wasn't even enough money to get a divorce and the whole thing was hopeless, besides of which Pauline would never understand me because I like too many things and get all confused and hungup running from one thing to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anyone except my own confusion.

She says she's sure it will be a hit. And the cats across the roof, mad in love, scream into drainpipes. And it is I who am ready, ready to listen, never tired, never sad. Never guilty.

I am that repulsive child that improvises a bed
out of an old cardboard box and waits,
certain that you will accompany me.