May 25, 2008
I am writing this from a table in a cafe downtown over a flowering tea and the first cigarette I've legally purchased with my own cash. Which brings me to about twelve bucks. I. am. fucked. I've called Jupiter and Peter. They're on their way.
Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday. To celebrate I've taken my freedom. Self liberation. It's very exciting and frightening at the same time. I spent last night in the car. And while I'm not exactly sure of my next move, hopefully now the nightmares will stop. I once heard a poem in a movie that I can't recall off hand. "I was walking up the stairs, and I passed a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish I wish he'd go away". Maybe he'll be gone now
Some time has passed between the last paragraph and the moment in which I am writing this one. Jupiter is going to try and find me a room for the night.
Here's to the adventure.
I am Good featuring Jupiter, by Stars, Salt, and Skin