FRIDAY 11:00pm

If I’m writing in you now, journal, chances are I probably made it. If I’m slurring now, chances are I dipped my tongue in that wine bottle. There’s only a little left and I’m sure he won’t be rolling over you tonight. It’s done wonders for the limp too.

I’ve walked a lot further than I planned to tonight. Maybe I’ll just go all the way to San Fran, find some park and snore with the wildlife. Maybe I’ll settle down right here, look up at the sky and trace back the alignment of stars that brought us together. I could also hop on a bus and take it to who knows where, start from scratch and lug my boots to Haight from the point of unfamiliarity. Oh how a warm bus sounds really nice right now. I’m sure my feet will thank me in the morning. Is that one there, in the distance, searching for a lonely street side passenger of the night? It sure is. Lets see were it drops us off.