One great way
to slough off the distractions:
An asshole
gets on a
plane in Los
Angeles. Gets off
somewhere
else. I was
with him
all the way,
and it was exercise.
So, a synthesis of synchronistic winks?
*getting off on the death impulse like an
addict, stuck on good feels until
I am nothing but a stoned
endorphin, until
I don’t deserve it.
Lonely Fred, walking around, how do we get
even you to slough
them off? The
aberrations, Fred.
The distractions.
Fred, you are over, 57 and
brimming
your limitations
through the undertow of the cheap
neurotic
Fred, you are always alone, so
If you can’t love yourself,
then move.
