The old school was always there,
I just never cared enough for it’s brown establishment being in my constant gloominess.
Everything that could come out of there has already been out,
and I have seen them, I have gotten on with them.
It felt grand as the opening was getting clear and all I could see are; Beach houses, cold beers, babes with gracious tits,
but as the time went by I could imagine the fishiness of this creative matter…the loneliness I had to deposit in my days,
I could live in the shadows of my most pretentious self and still sound marvelous.
But you see all of these did exist and I was dreading the blockages…the times my body parts dissolved into a juice made of my sanity.
I have many pages to die for or perhaps I haven’t… there’s nothing to care for that…but the end comes like roaring impotence…
Sometimes you have to finish not for the cause of anything but for the burden of everything.

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Photograph: Collin Gallagher.