I'm reading this anthony bourdane book roscoe lent me and all his talk of swashbucking god-men cooks has got me all revved up about all of the horrible navy shit I , and of course, ya'll went though. I'm here alone at 4am, takling to myself about all the bullshit that happened in those horrible years. This visious, violent monolougue is running in head. Now, I'm wired and pissed. I got shit to do today and now I know I'm not going to be sleeping at all because of this repressed self hate from those years bubbling up. I just want to go outside and shake random people, scream at them for being alive. I want to break my fist agaisnt these shitty apartment walls. Shitty, soul crushing hate machine navy. Fuckin' A.
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1 comment:
All I have to say is "Chicken'n'Cheese!"
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