It will be a long time before you ever see that certainty, and even longer if there’s hope for relevant consistency. Until you’re wrongly directed, by yourself, wrongly advised, by yourself and mistakenly believe there was never a way out.
And while you realize in some ways, the circular motion, while you detect an ebb and a flow, there will always be the suspicion that the circle of life is an excuse.
And like my girl Le Le says, “I don’t wanna die here.” and I don’t either.
I havent seen my kid in six months. His mom hardly lets me talk to him. It’s not fair.
On the other hand I could stop throwing all my money away on making films and printing books and drinking and cigarettes and cocaine.
I could stop the endless line of one night stands and tofu scrambler sendoffs.
I could stop pining after women that i would inevitably turn off between the fifth and ninth whisky seltzer.
I could save up for a new pair of shoes, pay my rent, pay my credit cards, send my grandma a fucking letter for once, make a meal using a pot and a pan, drink a glass of fucking water, eat an apple, exercise, get a job, get a second job, buy a car, get a new phone, move, get another job. Fall in love, be responsible, reach potential.
But I made this bed and I’m laying in it, which i think is probably a poor decision.