life has become a series of laying in bed and avoiding.
my little brother told me, through the anonymity of instant messaging and horrible spelling, that he was afraid to deeply examine his life. that he was afraid of what he might find.
I say, welcome, jon, to adulthood in the Padgett tradition.
Welcome, pillbox, to next-to-my-computer.
Welcome, enablers.
Welcome, social butterflies.
I will tell you when to go.
I will not tell you to go.
I will say, through drunken veils, through strange i-missed-you-but-don't-care-about-you-anymore conversations.
Syracuse, my humiliation follows me everywhere in you.
Syracuse, I do not belong here or anywhere,
but especially not here,
Where Korean business men can say "adios," after buying me expensive wine.
When a mix CD is a threat (and well enough)
and here, a drink to
THE FUCKING CHAMPS.
thank god for great guitar rifts, or
else.
