Drunken Ramblings 2002-08-09

So I was searching through my notebook for a blank sheet of paper to write some stuff down, and found this written on one of the sheets. I'm pretty sure it's from when I was in New York visiting my bud Ben, on one of the many nights we had gotten drunk. Sometimes, when I get drunk, I feel this compelling urge to pick up a pencil and write. Very stream of conciousness oriented. Whatever.

Anyway, here. Puncture wrapping, heat at 375 for thirty minutes. Serve while hot. Enjoy.

Weezer.

Camels. Dark mints. Rare.

Drunk. My pinky nudges an empty shot.

Phone. Ring...

Half empty glasses. Half empty thoughts.

Eyes are bleeding. Crying. Damn emotion.

But it's okay. Phone call is over.

Nicotine.

Lungs. Smoke feels good going down.

Good coming up.

I'm okay now.

Ben's drunk.

I'm drunk.

He's pissing.

I have to. Broke the seal on this one.

We'll never be the same.

Can't write. The words are bleeding.

End of story.