�They are all crazy�

that�s definitely not true, remember when you were a teenager?

�I think you are crazy�

why do you say that?

�They are all crazy too�

you are full of shit

(he�s right, they are all crazy, every fucking last one of them, they all are. They come in and out of my life. I must really, really be a fucking asshole, as nobody stays around me for too long. I don�t know anyone from my childhood anymore. They all hate me for some reason)

I want it to start snowing tomorrow. I want it to start getting better here, they all go in their holes.

I had a curious interest to see a person last night, on the side of the road, windshield everywhere � but right now, all of a sudden, I can picture metal all over my teeth, One of those little metal picks they use to find cavities. Sitting here right now, in the evening, and all I can feel is the metal pick in my mouth

Speaking of windshields though. I went to get some cigarettes tonight for 25 dollars or whatever they cost now, and I remembered my car was dirty as shit. They have one of those drive thru car washes, so I asked the guy how much. He knows me from going in there, so he said �you�re all set, pull it around. I got back in my freezing car, as Maceo Parker blew alongside Fred Wesley. I started going through the thing, when I realized my windshield was still cracked all the way across it. There�s been a four foot crack that started as a half inch months ago. So I�m just now remembering how powerful the air dryers blow on the car when you get to the end. Usually, it lifts the windshield wipers up. I immediately filled with images of the windshield smashing in, and getting glass all over me while �Pass the Peas� played in the background. My first instinct was to grab my cell phone. Maybe I can get 411 to get the number of this place before I get to the end, so I can call the guy and tell him to shut it off. The dryers ominously swung in front of me though, as I looked around the car for something to do. Like James Bond, I grabbed a jacket from the back seat, put my seat back, and drove under the thing. All of a sudden-

(when they call me, they need something. They never call and say �hey, do you want to go see a movie, do you want to come over and fuck me now?, do you want me to buy you a chicken sandwich? No, they don�t do that at all. None of them do that at all, and I don�t give a fuck anymore. I don�t give a fuck about it. I am ready to sit around all fall and winter feeling like this. It�s better when it�s all gray and white out there isn�t it?)

the car is so fucking clean, and my skin is still smooth

before & after