graven

This poem reminds me a bit of the beginning part of your last journal:

each man must realize that he can disappear very quickly...

The cat, the woman, the job, the front tire, the bed the walls, the room; all our necessities including love,
rest on foundations of sand-

and any given cause, no matter how unrelated; the death of a boy in hong kong or a blizzard in omaha...
can serve as your undoing.

all your chinaware crashing to the kitchen floor, your girl will enter in the center of it and she'll ask;
my god, what's the matter?

and you'll answer: I don't know, I don't know.....

-Charles Bukowski

haha. I just love that poem.

yea it is a bitch isnt it?