The alternative to revenge.
Have mercy, I feel better after a hit of weed. Is that so bad? To feel better after a hit of weed? What's the difference between the dopamine rush of coffee and the euphoria of the flower, or weed versus an antidepressant, or weed and a couple of beers?
Every time I write it's all about me and it’s exceedingly dull. So today I'm writing about new iterations of character.
It doesn't matter if I tell the truth or not.
I am not me because the old me is static and the new is polymorphous. I am fake and sincere; nonfiction and fantasy.
When I drive on the freeway between Baltimore and the District of Columbia I invoke an inner poem plea: Do not engage in the devil road rage.
When I smoke weed I can't read books. I can read, but I keep reading the same sentence over and over. I love reading books. I read every day for hours at a time. When I read I'm not smoking weed. I like smoking weed and sex. I like smoking weed and dancing. I like smoking weed and playing the piano.
Live your mother fucking life.
I've driven between Maryland and Virginia many times—and I always caught the road rage and worried myself sick. Driving is a miserable test of ego.
I used to think failing was a weakness. So I decided to change my definition of failing and eliminated the word "failing" from my vocabulary.
I like page turners but I like to come to a halt every now and then to muse a philosophical detour.
I never liked the idea of declaring what I am. "So what do you do?" I heard at a Midtown happy hour. My face sags. But then, "What do you obsess about?" and I'm fully attentive.
I used to drink alcohol.
I like watching the Pittsburgh Steelers but I mute the announcers and the commercials. I don't talk to my family much but when I watch the Steelers I think of them.
I’ve isolated myself from society yet I experience intimacy. I’m light and nimble. And if I wasn't loved would I still be able to love? Yes; introducing AI McCuddle Fingers. Oh lord, I am crass and insensitive. The self is part of the whole; such a comforting digestif.
Road rage is no fluke; it is by design. I have these therapy sessions with myself every day yet I haven't spoken to a therapist since the last time, in Bmore, after I returned from a long road trip to Los Angeles.
Abandon self; and write about it.
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