dear diary

 well, the fast hasn't happened yet; still working on writ and hope to have it locked in next few days; then put it down, and attempt to go through a radical transformation before filing late July. part of me is like fuck it, just smoke and drink to your heart's content until you're dead--you did it your art's all over the world, you have select poems out there--you did your job as an artist. then the other part says, dude, if you make some adjustments you can still surf and marvel at the beauty of sun and earth. it's hard though, seeing the intense sublimation of human consciousness. that bowie lyric remains so true: to be insulted by these fascists is so degrading. living a life of degradation is tough, but fight we must while we still can; where there is hope there is a just future