wow just found an old journal..
11/9/98 Hurricane cafe , Seattle 530am
...drinking coffee as I have been for the last hour and a half...verycold tonite..high thirties or maybe 40, I'll bet closer to upper 30's...steady breeze off the sound makes it feel colder...sitting here at counter next too crazy rockhead, he keeps touching his face,squirming around fidgeting with his clothes,alternately bowing and raising his headw/all the grace of a chameleon.One eye this way,one eye that way,as if hunting for his next buggy morsel...starting to get sleepyand my brain is slowly being tempted by little bursts of happy chemicalsleep that seem to come in waves almost like nausea,but with a lacy frill of deception...sleep now would be foolish...Only nine more hours til $, then hotel roon and sleep...i suppose I could go back to the boat but fuck that ,I've been stuck on it for the last three months. I don't look forward to my journey into the cold early morning...hackety hack crackhead next to me is starting to do ballet on the stools,some strange dancewhere he places his head between the two swivles and splays his arms back to turn the putrid upholstery against his head. i'm imaginig the seats turn into a rock crusher,sueezing his head like a grape and smooshing it in a shower of gore,as his now lifeless corpse continues with it's insipid aerobics ...
11/9/98 Hurricane cafe , Seattle 530am
...drinking coffee as I have been for the last hour and a half...verycold tonite..high thirties or maybe 40, I'll bet closer to upper 30's...steady breeze off the sound makes it feel colder...sitting here at counter next too crazy rockhead, he keeps touching his face,squirming around fidgeting with his clothes,alternately bowing and raising his headw/all the grace of a chameleon.One eye this way,one eye that way,as if hunting for his next buggy morsel...starting to get sleepyand my brain is slowly being tempted by little bursts of happy chemicalsleep that seem to come in waves almost like nausea,but with a lacy frill of deception...sleep now would be foolish...Only nine more hours til $, then hotel roon and sleep...i suppose I could go back to the boat but fuck that ,I've been stuck on it for the last three months. I don't look forward to my journey into the cold early morning...hackety hack crackhead next to me is starting to do ballet on the stools,some strange dancewhere he places his head between the two swivles and splays his arms back to turn the putrid upholstery against his head. i'm imaginig the seats turn into a rock crusher,sueezing his head like a grape and smooshing it in a shower of gore,as his now lifeless corpse continues with it's insipid aerobics ...
tarbaby:
that is a wonderful story.....and the pill lady came through so i am happy now in a gooey sort of way...mmmm....pills.....
tarbaby:
right back at ya,babe!!!