i hear jet engines warming up. i feel the snug caress of the seat belt. i miss flying first class. i miss martinis. i miss someones sleeping warm breath on my neck. i miss me. but as i like to say to myself in the mirror, blah, blah, blah. boo fucking hoo. 
im going to take a couple more painkillers and eat some sherbet and maybe watch "charlie and the choclate factory". or maybe "the day the earth stood still". life is hard when youre a crybaby. i am a fucking flower. a spore of self centered self pleasured self revolving whore. and this is my whoredom.
all hail the flower of infection that blooms red across my white cotton boxer shorts and white cotton tee shirt. such a stunning arrangement of molecular bliss. look! look at what i made! hooray hooray hooray! i am eldorado. i am the promise of vanity. i am infected with beauty.