6.7.08 / New York / 524AM: turnstiles are clicking in the New York night… metro pass haven in wallet size plastic wrap… the train is leaving on short notice hurry… 108 to manhattan… the L train… we walk down streets in Williamsburg… we talk about other times… we talk about how people are fucking ridiculous our old friends have become and how they push the knife in slowly and steadily… how when I needed them most they were no where to be found in their selfish justification and poor excuse for a life motherfuckers! Always talking about how much you hate my friend and then when he’s dead you show up to his funeral… real man aren’t cha! How you said I should feel bad about not visiting with my father when in reality I did the right thing by sticking up for myself and regarding my boundaries. But you were just like all those other fucking mooks in Newport… Always out to help someone if you could help yourself. Maybe you did the best you could… maybe you really did have good intentions but at the end of it all you were nowhere to be found… it crushed me… and all of you just seemed to laugh when I went away… it was like you didn’t even care… so one sided… but I have to say I’m moving on with my life and I’m growing up the best I can. And I’m not that mean prick that makes fun of people when they show up to a meeting to get help. I will never be that mother fucking loser cocksucker! That has to be the most bullshit I’ve ever witnessed in my clean life. You even told me that if I want self-esteem then I should do esteemable acts. What about all that shit… I’m over it and you! I want to talk about cab rides to Penn Station and the fact that I’m living in New York and riding the train and subway and I have a commitment at a meeting now and things are going really good… I can get really side tracked with how much people let me down but I have to remember that human beings will always fail me… And at the same time I really think it’s shitty when people are just plain mean. Have some fucking compassion… Moving on… New York is my new home… I’m sticking it out here… I love you New York…

June 5, 2008 / 221AM / New York: I’m going to act like you… the short end of the stick tonight… this tragic lonely epic New York night that I love so much… I miss all of you… Krista especially… and the ones in the future, I miss you too and I don’t even know you… because I know me and in knowing me I know I will be missing you… oh that’s so sad in the future but right now I will love this place I am in… like I’m inside you fermenting… your alluring effervescence… I’m lost inside of you… in your pictures and words and the thought of how you would taste beneath the Brooklyn night… beneath the skyline of love… in that hotel on Madison Ave… all night we fucked… more and more and more and pictures and stories and tales of other times and landing in San Diego for more of that but it wasn’t the same as New York but I tried to love you the same and it just made me sicker and sicker inside because we both changed so much… I literally felt sick… the room in that little hostel began to close in on me… my thoughts were drowning in the noise from 5th street San Diego madness… you on top of me like the wind before and now a storm… I close my eyes and grasp into the non-reality that comes with you… so many memories… and the disco plays all-night… so loud and fast and rocking… this summer is going to be the best summer ever!

 

4.24.08 / 2:31AM: I’m gonna make it there one day… the dreams of the people… the kids that hold us hostage in order to provide someone something we never had… and the hostage situation is voluntary… Holly Brook is playing piano right near me in this little dark room… she hums a verse and it sounds really beautiful… the kind of stuff dreams are made of… and maybe others saw it too… the fire in her heart… the fire in his soul… the wanting to come to New York… and do something else… that’s me… I took this risk… im gonna ride it out now… im here for the duration… the last ride… until next time… that long drive to somewhere still and somber… I was with Holly & Stefano when I got the news about Mike Conley passing away… so I feel connected to them in the way of the spirit… and we sit here all doing our thing… in our own worlds but so intertwined together in the mystic music business… the shallow trench where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs… I love New York… when you get to be my age you really find out who your friends are… keep your friends close and your enemies closer… they die and go to prison and get married and have kids and move away and go insane and go to rehab… and some make money and forget about ya… some get poor and I forget about them… all I can do is type my words and watch the little pencil at the bottom of the page move… it lets me know I’m keeping pace… once the red x shows up that means I’m lagging… I don’t want to lag… I want to make things real… I see these scripted shows… and here the excuses of the people and their clothing companies… but once a band starts to blow up you all wanna come running… fuck you! It’s too late. I’ve been getting shut down lately from a bunch of people and let me tell you, that’s completely okay. Just don’t believe to much in redemption because it doesn’t go down like that where I live. I’ve dealt with shadey fucking people my whole life. The sucker fishes and the bottome feeders and losers and scumbags and prick motherfuckers that want some when the well is full… but when I wanted something which was only going to benefit you in the long run in the first place you just gave me some fucking excuse about some shit… and you don’t wanna make a deal because you don’t know that bartering in the music business is how things work… you think you can walk around and take some pills here and there and be okay… and show up late to the meetings… and its just one big fucking show for you… it just makes me a little mad that you tried to throw some shit in my face about what I didn’t hook you up with… and how the higher-ups were over it… that’s why I make my own rules and run my own show. Fuck those higher-ups! They can suck my cock. But that would be sick! Such a figure of speech. I’m so bitter at the human race… but I’m more bitter at the people that claim a bunch of shit about being friends… you know nothing about it… let me give you an example fool, Drew Steverson calls me tonight to say hello. We talked for a while. 30 minutes or so. And we know that if we don’t talk for a long ass time that we are always on the same page NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS!!!! That’s true friendship. Anything else is bullshit. Maybe you did get played. Maybe I did use you. Maybe you played yourself… did you ever think about it from that angle???? You should… and make a realization that you’re alone because maybe you think you’re too fucking cool or you’re just too amazing… you’re really not that big of a deal… if you were don’t you think you would have more friends… maybe you wouldn’t… maybe you like being alone with all that money… I think you’re a fucking prick piece a shit! You and a bunch of other people that thought they were helping me out… but wasn’t it me that was going way out of the way to help you come up? Yes it was. And I don’t forget that shit but you obviously do forget. I’m talking about three people in this piece… the people that have menial jobs at big companies… and those people are getting rich off you… maybe you’re just a puppet… I don’t really care! What happens when I make shit happen? I can’t even get certain people to come to shows I’m putting on or getting tickets to. It’s amazing! It really is a drag. The one person that wants nothing to do with me out of her complete self-obsessed existence is the one I want to smash in the head! But I wont do that because I don’t want to go to jail and I wouldn’t waste my time on you now that I know you’re just another cunt bitch! And to the other mooks… I actually thought of so many people when I wrote this… just fucking assholes! Pride yourself in being a mean, inconsiderate prick! I don’t hang around with people like you. I say what I want in my writings because I can. My name is attached to this and if there is anything that you did tell me it was that everyone else is playing it safe… I took that to heart. But I also took to heart that me talking about you as my friend is pretty much bullshit unless you want something from me… and that wont happen anymore because I don’t need you and I was desperate and you felt it and took it all for granted… this isn’t safe… was Bukowski safe? No way!!!! I’m not selling out tonight… I’ve made it this far, why change now… unless it will help others… you’re not the only one that feels like this… that’s why I’m writing what I write… I want you to know that you’re not a lone with your thoughts of hating people. Most people are a let down. The ones that don’t let you down are the ones to confide in… everyone else is just that, everyone else.

 

4.22.08 / 2:32AM: almost another year passing to my life. My birthday is on the 25th. Gonna be 41. Don’t know where the time goes but it goes… just another day gone by… and what have I done to change my life… to enhance the place where I live… I don’t know… at moments it seems the same. Other times its just… I don’t even know. I get upset at girls really easily. Its such a childs game. And the girls im mad at are children just realizing life… they have such a long way to go… im a good lesson for them. Something to compare to their new boyfriend who may as well be a poster child for goodness. That isn’t who I am. I will never be that person. Im most likely gonna be that fuck buddy or rebounder boy toy. That big cock in the middle of the fight with your stupid boyfriend… you think I want it like this? Not really, but im pretty much gonna take what is freely given to me. This is nothing new… it takes two so don’t blame all this shit on me. If you think im a dick then maybe I am. But let me tell you something, your girl thinks fucking me is the answer to the problem which is not the answer at all. And how am I to know she even has a boyfriend? Everyone wants the best of both worlds. The freedom to suck a cock in the drunken new york night and the safety and comfort of a home life with the guy that goes to work everyday to make a better life for you and have kids and do all the right things that are safe. The stroller in the park with the kids and the vacations and all the insurance papers and bills and schools… I cant do it. Im the person in the mirror that wants what is right but is almost incapable of making that happen… someday I might change… I have compassion in my heart like no one else… for life and change and youth and futility and blessings… but I also want the unsafe feelings of being on the edge of life… maybe someday I will be different but if you want to be my friend or lover or whatever, I will try to be the best person I can be to you. Trust me, I care about what you think. But im not willing to change to suit you. I care a lot. Almost to much. But im not willing to change for you. I am willing to change but it needs to be genuine. I cant do this shit for you. Or because I think someone’s mother is going to read this and judge me because I talk about cocks and cunts and whores and hookers and I say words like fuck and bitch and all the above… change will manifest itself at the exact time it is needed. Until then, I will write the way I feel and be as real as I can with whatever I do and create. I will say yes more and work on doing more… being more… be more… do more… I am more than I will ever know… to sum this up I will say that what I do usually takes another person to bring out something in me. Be it music or sex or words or whatever. Frustration… wondering why girls don’t get back to me but I have to remember those girls are young and on the move and if I was really a prick motherfucker they would all be writing me back and wanting to hangout so I can butt fuck them without a condom… at this point all I can really say is I don’t care about you anymore. You want safe, go find safe. I’m not safe. But in my arms you will never feel safer…

4.22.08 / 11:36AM: another journal is loading up with sentences and words and thoughts and ideas and things that im doing and things that ive done… im up early today. Before ten am. That’s early for me. Been trying to adjust to this new york time zone and its been almost three weeks now and im finally settling into it. Im really trying to let things roll off my shoulders in the sense of things that bother me. It doesn’t take long and everything starts to wear me down. So im working out and trying to eat right. I gain weight extra fast so it really does matter what I eat. I have to watch that shit. Im gonna try to get a spot at a club so I can promote and have an obligation to go into the city every week. I will speak with caron about that. She promotes all the spots in NYC. Aside from these things we have some things that have to be done today as for OCD Music Group stuff. That’s one of the main reasons I came out to NY too. Thank God I have work here. I was dying in Cali. I owe a bunch of money and it doesn’t feel good to be in that place. Slowly I am getting myself out of that debt and into something good. I tried so hard to get my credit score up and in good standing and I was at 650 across the board. But then my car go repossessed and everything went down hill from there. It was just bullshit after that! The bills started piling up and to be honest I sort of ran from that shit. I took this small brown box that was full of my bills and I threw them all in the dumster. What choice did I have. Really. I don’t have the money. Credit card bills. Its so crazy. I strive for one thing and the complete opposite happens. Its fucking crazy! But I keep moving forward. What choice is there… I have to. Im sure I could do so much more. People like Mike Conley would always push me to do more. That was what he was about. But I would always have an excuse or listen intently about the message he was conveying. It all made perfect sense. One time he said to me, “you gotta get out there with your book. You need to do more readings and promote that thing. What are you doing?” he went on and on. It was amazing! I was just like, “I know. I know.” But I never really did anything. When there’s no market it’s a bit hard. Its one of those things, books are not like a band. They are much harder to promote. I sent my fucking book out to so many people and the only ones that reviewed it were the people I knew. There was no sense of embracement. It was rather unnerving. That’s the entire reason why I published my own book. If I were to wait for someone to publish me I would be like every other wanna-be writer out there. You need an agent, you need to stop bashing women, you need this and that… by the time the people are done with me I’m nothing and no-one and I’m stripped of everything that makes me who I am. Just another peoples puppet habituated by others… so the solution is to build my catalog and come out of the box strong. Or fall into the category of complete wagonism and be like every other pile that thinks they’re going to change the scope of literature. It aint gonna happen. Look at “on the road” by Jack Kerouac. That book was written on a scroll with absolutely unique punctuation. Kerouac coined his own style even if some folks think he stole his literary genius from Neal Cassady. Wherever it came from, it was brilliant! And Jack did not follow the norm. He made shit happen his way. He had the help of Allen Ginsberg and all the Beatniks which was a tremendous help. And I have to look at that. And pay head to Lawrence Ferlinghetti who published Allen Ginsberg’s Howl poem which is literary history. Everything else is just that, everything else. I completely understand what Lawrence did and that is what im doing. He started city lights book store in san Francisco and it still stands on the corner of broadway and Columbus. The timing was perfect for all of them. Howl was considered obscene but ferlinghetti who published the poem won the case. Judge Clayton Horn decided the poem was of "redeeming social importance". My point exactly. And this is the model I will recreate with my own twist and so be it!