"You don't write anymore, you should write."

"It used to be a true expression of yourself, now it's just vainglorious. Like you are trying to convince yourself of something."

Perhaps.

But maybe it is hard to write when you have your left hand holding a glass of wine and your right hand holding the keys to get out of your apartment... and your mouth is holding a cigarette, all to perhaps,

forget the fact that you don't write anymore.

And I mean write in the cynical way. The way that you make fun of trannies like they are lost and found women who forgot their penises.

(because any self respecting woman has a bigger dick than most of the men we all meet)

But perhaps it is hard to write when my skin is burnt to a crisp. And the reason for the burn is due to my desire to run around like a fool until I forget where I came from.

Where I came from is peeing in the bathroom.

While I attempt to smoke.

Smoke and type.

As he encourages me on.