bukowski
two years ago i would not have watched the draft. i wouldn’t have known when it was on or what it meant and i especially wouldn’t have watched people talk about the draft before watching the actual draft, guessing who would be 2nd or 3rd - and gotten anything out of it.
i don’t even love the sport - though i couldn’t say that out loud here. it’s the winning. i love the winning and the stories and the cheering and the bragging rights. sports are about money and pride. most people don’t even pretend they’re not anymore.
unless it’s a really good game. i watched the pistons spurs game and all of a sudden held such strong feelings for tim duncan. i went from knowing absolutely nothing to screaming at the tv in the sports bar. i ditched my friends and most of my dignity and stood screaming…at a tv.
the ink on the side of the yogurt bottle gives it 7 more hours of edibility. i disagree.
the bad news is that there’s no food here now. that yogurt bottle was my last hope. i don’t want to go out, i don’t want to pay for delivery, i don’t really even want to eat i just know it’s necessary for survival.
the good news is that i have bigger fish to fry. good news is that there’s more going on in my life than rotten yogurt. i just won’t ever write any of that down.
it’s a cb kind of day..
I was wrong and graceless and
sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted.
there was no living creature as foul as I
and all my poems were
false.