VIII: Truth

Some things are beautiful.

Some things are not.

Some people are crazy.

And the others are too.

I lost my mind a while ago, myself.

Now I talk to myself.

Write notes to myself.

Here are few:

I’m lonely.

You’re dying.

There’s nothing left.

I’m obsessed with things

that I’m not very good at.

I fail and I fail.

I never learn.

The bums know the truth.

The cold and the bench.

I’m here, drinking for you.

• 2009