It's been so long... is this a saddle I'm riding, or a waterfall washing me down?
The ghost of Jack London blows fearful inspiration, awesome gusts of lung survival
roundabout my liver-spotted temples.
I gotta be free/like...the...new moon, este martes 13
So lonely. Sixteen months away from my sixtieth birthday. Death lurks behind every corner.
Los Alamos. Glen Ellen. San Juan Bautista. These towns!
'Call me Aimless-- errr, Ishmael!' TALK TO ME!
Excess is the measure of moderation: error is the trial of experience & learning.
I'm sooooo tired. I haven't found a home. I'm sooooo tired: I'm old & all alone.
I wonder should I give up...