At the end of the day, it’s all about her. It’s always been about her

Maybe we should have some sex, just fuck through the pain.

I suddenly understand the appeal of cigarettes and alcohol.

Can I get a jumbo “what the fuck were you thinking?”

I like it here. It’s nice. The sun is chirping. The birds are shining. The water’s wet. Life is good, sweetheart. Life is good.

Every time i finish a book – whiskey, weed, and Warren Zevon. It’s the little things.

No time like the present.

I can write anywhere… Or not, as the case may be, which is not the case.