Sydney Youngblood, I'd Rather Go blind.
More logs on the fire.
What do I care about living on my own.
I'm not sure I'd notice, anyway.
Other people.
Tea is the nectar of the gods, as far as gravel mouth and no spit.
Another joint?
I think about the Life of Pi and The Five people You are most likely to meet in heaven, my ex-girlfriend's contribution to my general, literary, wellbeing. I palmed off Ludmilla's Broken English on her, after I read my second bad review.
But who can read with all this smoke?
Billie Holiday, Lady in Satin.
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