There are some missing Chapters.
But writing, not unlike life, is not linear.
(Is that a word?—linear?)
I mustered up some courage and some sobriety, and that is a very narrow window to dive through.
Managed to go to the ‘Commerce Rent-A-Shed’ and retrieve half of my shit.
(I had dreamed about this the night before)
Had it all planned out…
NE-Way, I did it, next day
Truthfully, within three hours–sleep and I have issues of late.
Sleep to me now is akin to death–we do not get along.
Damn near to kilt me.
BP off the chart.
But before I came home, I stopped off at Wal*Mart and purchased some more…
All be good in my neighborhood.
Off-loaded my shit,
Got drunker than I already was…
(Now, mind you, I did NOT drive to Wal*Mart drunk, I was ‘mildly intoxicated,’ big diff.
Only an alcoholic would know the substantial difference.
Got ‘Home’, off-loaded my shit.
Three or six days later…
It, my shit, surrounds me, mocking.
Boxes and boxes of my life.
Waiting to be ‘unboxed.’
I am a busy man, and cannot be bothered.