I'm so tired. I wake up and my alarm tells me the same thing again and again; life is holding on by skin and nails here. I tell myself over and over that this isn't the place for me. But I've only been here for a few months, so I release my instincts to flee and turn on an old movie to forget about breathing for a while... and it can be nice.

Sometimes I wish I were wealthier; needle prick- nose snort away from bliss. Sometimes I venture to the "progressive" or "leftist" bookshops and hangouts, but I find no solace there. What ever happened to the crusties and drifters and anarcho-nihilists and feral wanderers?? There has to be a handfull of us left here in a mass of 10 million people, huh?

I'm not looking to trade electronic addresses with anyone. I'm just looking for some ideas in a land that crushes dreams and desires. I know a world exists beneath all this concrete and denim, indie-rock and illusion.

For wildness and joy in a sea of slaughter,

...