blanket buying season.

an attempt at writing something recognizable in humanity.

sometimes i wake up in the morning
and i think to myself, maybe it would be nice to have a warm body next to me,
so they can get up first and make the coffee.

take three.

sometimes i wake up with a bitter expression on my face and think,
i really need to move to the fucking woods. or maybe i'll dig a hole and crawl in and lay in the fetal position.

but then i drink my coffee.
and i realize i am living. in the best. city. in the world. and the best advice my grandfather ever gave me, shit or get off the pot is what will make me stop writing in my shitty blog nobody reads and make me start memorizing some lines.

8:50 in the morning, live from my bedroom.

bushwick is looking especially lovely today.