User:Yaanu/Letters to Xiola

Letters to Xiola how great it would be if the sun lost all responsibility and left us here. for me the days become an excuse but I too have found a way of not waking up i've been asleep now for days, and days, and days i feel as if I'm sitting in an open boxcar and it's heading out of town it looks like the inside of a prison cell i'm scared and I'm excited my days and my dreams have never known each other so well in the course of my day i have no idea where i'm going but in my dreams no matter where i end up as soon as sleep rolls over me i sneak out and head downtown my dreams allow me to cheat my dreams punish me they're so vivid i see pictures so clear it would be forgery to paint them i hear songs as clear as a summer radio songs to pass the time as the boxcar heads south. i woke up in the late afternoon on a day like this I wonder if you age less because you didn't use all of it you see if that's so you should be able to live twice as long as anyone else just by waking up at four o'clock in the afternoon turn on the late-afternoon tv there's all the career school commercials drug addict and alcohol rehabilitation commercials and i think to myself gee i'd like to have a drink and get high then the phone rings but i don't answer it cause i don't care who it is i don't got anything i want to talk about i remember when you used to call remember? you'd always say "oh we're going to be famous" that's how you always end the conversation an inspirational message it was okay between the two of us it's funny you know but inspirational messages always seem the most possible when you're totally wasted. what do I need? what is going to bring me around? it's not listening to ex-drug addicts i know for a fact all drug addicts are liars i get off on athletes when they start getting all inspirational then they gotta go and mention jesus and ruin it weight loss commercials are pretty good you know some 40 year old lady who's lost 85 pounds and i look at her and i think she could not possibly have more guts than i do. books the bible's never really done it for me being an extremist i've always thought it was just too popular. there's a paper in los angeles called the recycler the recycler has given me a lot of inspiration i remember when i first moved here and the determination that I had to get a job and find a band get an apartment you know if only I had a cool apartment i'll save every penny and i'll buy myself some equipment always just two or three steps behind happiness it's too bad they don't do centerfolds or cover stories i'd kinda like to be on the cover of the recycler i had no friends at the time all my friends now are drug addicts i don't believe that i would ever wish that i had no friends. you never met bernice or alfred they're a couple that have been through thick and are now very thin bernice is usually in a better mood than i am when i see her she lives on the street she's an adorable mexican girl it seems like, if you were to take her home and scrub her up, she'd probably start singing and become america's sweetheart alfred sits on the curb and reads he reads more than i do i like to believe it's because he's got more time last dream i had i drove downtown and i just stayed there hung out with alfred we both sat on the curb talking all sour over current events while bernice and casey hustled up the business yeah, adding up credit with kiko it amazes me how little difference there is between me and Alfred and bernice and casey as far as I can see the only difference is that right now we're making our rent i remember something about a boxcar-- inside of it there was something on the wall "bernice loves alfred" hey I got another one for you all men are created with equal time father time has got to be the richest make-believe individual that never lived a man that knows what to do with his time is a man i guess that's up in the front of the line in the course of a day a man can make three phone calls and make three thousand dollars another man can curl up his bicep for three hours and he can puff up his arm three inches and another man can stand on the corner chasing down cars for three hours and end up with three spoons credit with kiko me I spend days on end trying to come up with a three-minute poem that's gonna mean something to somebody and I have never been satisfied maybe I should try scrubbing up bernice