It’s a terrifying thing, the american dream
My diet consists of black coffee, pizza, and the blood of my enemies
Going to see Beach Slang, I Am The Avalanche, and Modern Baseball tonight
The Greatest Generation/Ballgame
I can’t hear my music over the crickets. So rhythmic, so self-assured; these days I’d take either. Instead I’m raging; not against the dying of the light, against everything with a pulse. I’m increasingly furious, bitter, and afraid. I’m drinking more and sleeping less. Plotting every move, yet still surprised by the outcomes. I’m both the lost and the found, the fish in both ponds, the oxymoron. I’m the good man, but I’ve been drinking alone.