2000 [simething like this ok for your zine?]

i am not your writer machine i am not your boy ok i do not love you dearly i do not care i will not type a stupid story for you baby ok nothing will make you feel better yeah maybe a hot couple of weeks and then right into the

arguments

right into the faking like we agree right into the same old same old in every house in the neighborhood oh that right you

in a apartment in a big ol city not like hickassme right you are so godamm cool so fucking superbadasstintedblue hey here i s whaty

writing is about it is about sticking a gun into every ugly sleeping face and pulling the trigger BLUH-OWW

and

KABOOM

yea h KABOOM like that old arcade game we had in the basement until dad hit mom in front of us one nite and everyone had to move and choose sides and i ended up in the dominic republic [malaria shots] watching ppl fawn over alfredo griffin well i mean i get it ok dude was really good he was my favorite shortstop for awhile when he was on the blue jays but yeah anyway it was hot as fuck and man if you wanna talk about bugs we can start there that winter dude and my pop struck alfredo's ass out with the high heat on a 3-2 count when the game was on the line and the home crowd threw things on the field and booed but my dad and his teammates were happy and laughing and high five-ing each other as they ran to the dugout and i remember that i was happy too but also kinda scared becuz we were going to haiti the nexxt day and the time i was there before that i saw men walking int o the jungle with machetes and i thought they were going to kill wild animals or monsters or ppl.

i saw my sisters two yrs later and we were all shy at first but then after an hurr or so we were getting along like nothing ever happened.

both of my parents remarried and i moved here and there until i could escape everyone.

the end.