Woke up and cleaned the apartment. Perhaps tomorrow I will be clearer in the head.
I've fallen, fallen into this web once again. I hate it here.
Traveling between extremes.
We were watching the 4th of July fireworks by the lake when a small child, perhaps six years old, said, "God is dying!"
'How can I be good to you when you're drunk all the time?'
I take the creaking of the porch swing with me everywhere I go. At Pete's loft we climb up the fire escape to the roof and exhale our cigarette smoke into the skyline. Chicago is immense all around us.
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