Thursday, March 10, 2011

Dust on the Window.

Ugh!! I am sitting here at the Percolator Cafe in downtown El Paso - a swanky haunt for artists and writers and high brow fags - I come here almost everyday to write.
However, today they have this goddamn hippy singing live with a guitar on a P.A. system WAY too loud. And the hairy troll knows it is too loud, because when I arrived, he bleated nasally, "Sorry if the sounds a bit too loud, folks - still trying to work the bugs out of the sound system."
ASSHOLE! You realize it's too loud - turn that moaning, tree hugging shit down some! No need to force your groovy moaning into our psyche!
Well, the plus side is - only twenty minutes more of this tripe and I can concentrate on the novel at hand.
I have started the "homeless" section - the tale of loneliness and frustration of trying to attain a place to stay when one has hit rock bottom.

Have you ever hit rock bottom? And I mean rock bottom - when you lost everything you had and all friends had turned their back on you. Rock bottom. Nothing. I have and only then are you able to live to your full potential.

No comments: