Lesson number 2

If you're going to run around breaking rules you've got to have guns you can stick to.

SOme CALl it waste

Went to amnesia to see family folk explosion band and watched the disco ball lights run around the tiny bar scattering across squished people. thought about old times on a roof top in the haight and times when i first met people. Charlie said "come with me, it's cool man" and i said all right let me grab my things at home and i'll call you. wondered if he thought i might not show, like they did at work, but i am not that way. words have staples and words hang over open mouths just like those american west grovers said, when they sung into my ear in a van a long time ago in burlingame, that they hang like they're just hanging out and suddenly i realize what they were talking about. the cold shoulders and going crazy in different places like within your self and in other people's minds. it's just that i wished words were unbreakable stones. i walked my ass and my red and blue attire down 24th street for recollection purposes, like how you know that when you've reached home you've reached home. it's a good feeling. consistency is key in life, i have realized, and perhaps it is unhealthy to expect it from all peoples but the appreciation is what matters most. flower shopped my possessions away from the green and concrete world that has held and nursed me for years. shutting the door, i smelled burned tires, and remembers the scientist and the drummer and the best friend and how i know, i know i should be making it out to oakland more often but sometimes you build these things and feel commitment to them in small streets and few street corbers. it's hard to walk away from things that you build. jumped on the 9 which smelled more like piss than i've ever known it too, at least consciously and jonnEE dropped me off wishing me a good time, like, all cool how he is in a plain green sweat shirt not yet painted on. played some blues, and yes they were emotional, about people who are like old road signs that take you for rides and they can lead you to dirt roads, and to the sea, and to ranches, and oceans, and bars that have drinks that take you to the sky. i just stormed out of a bar because i paid good money to hear dopethrone and the bar tender kept turning it off and i thought sweet jesus mother of mine in what fucking hell is it so bothersome to feel relaxed for one fucking minute. i felt relaxed and perhaps laughed to loud when dopethrone came on. of course it couldn't last, it never does. i kept talking about hume and remembered why i liked the story of the whole river and the nine different ways it changes when i attempted to ride the waves of the ocean that nursed my best, dearest, friend for so many long last eternally haunting years, and now i do realize that i spoke of the wrong man. i came to mourn, give my heart to the ocean, my soul to the strings, and my memory to my baby girl. to remember friends.
the only business cards i've gotten here so far are from porn industry people that makes me wonder about politics.
then i remember that i haven't the right.
when, california, did you become so lucky?
i still believe that gold in california is sea blue and green.
my bag is a portable office.
my fingers are bruised and i may have pinched a nerve in one of my left knuckles when i was slicing bread.
let's see what it sounds like.
i call it home.