FRIDAY 10:00pm

All I’m going to say is that he keeps sliced limes in his pocket and harbors a subtle southern accent, which is hard to pick up in his poetry. His hair was also thinning out and he looked decades younger than his age. What impressed me most about the man was his ability to blend in. By reading his work you’d almost think there’s a neon aura shooting out of his body. But no. He’s no different than you and me except that he took a little time off each day to sit down and ink out his dreams. Well, I lie. A little time is probably an understatement.

Now, the moment of truth. Dinner time. I found this nice bridge and since I look like a bum anyways I figured no one would bother me under there. The stove is assembled and preheating as we speak. There is a tin bowl full of water ready to be boiled and a thirsty bag of powdered noodles by its side. Will the flame be blue or will I be cooking myself for dinner? We'll see...