I forgot to tell you this but I miss God.  I miss being able to rely on somebody, I miss being able to pour not hold anything back.  I feel creepy for doing this, but I find pleasure in reading about other people’s lives.  People can truly be interesting and right now these college students are riveting.  Their imperfect writing is like poetry for my starving brain.  Keke.  Without being able to download music I would not have discovered some of the undiscovered bands I have grown to love.  So take that jesus superstar!

A nice photoshoot went down.  I had fun speaking without words.  Oh Andy!  “She’s too good for us.”  “Dug dem deep, did I!”

I don’t know why I ever worry, everything turns out in the end better than I for, but I like that.  I do believe I am a good person, at least I mean well.  I don’t want to be famous I just want to be friends with you when you’re at the top of the cultural food chain.  Good fast I tell ya.  Theres more where that came from?  I was happy that I remembered and I can only hope that you felt a little remorse in return.

Charles is 16.  16 more years to go, he wrote in his notebook.  I hate the way you sit, I hate the way you tick.  I like the way your hair blows on the way home, I like that shirt (and the way it outlines your breasts) you’ve sewn.  You’ll go off to some ivy league college and get married and end you sad story but I’ll be happy for you despite the fact that you don’t know me (that well).  Charles puts his ear buds back in and draws two small tits (they look like two eyeballs) over the page expertly.  Maybe tonight he’ll sit on the roof.  Perhaps it’ll rain.  If not it’ll be raining somewhere and Charles takes solace in that thought.  Too many guns.