For those of you checking for a new post or feed, the wait is almost over.... There'll be a new Memoires post put up within the next f...

. Sick. We were sick. We lay in bed, wrapped up in filthy blankets, smoking, sometimes fucking, doing animal things, you know... like being...

. There's been a murder, a young girl, and now I can't sleep.  It happened a little over four hours ago. I woke up to a symphony ...

. It's been years now; so many years. If I think of just how many and what I've missed I'll become sadder than the word was eve...

. I mean: I'm bored. Like picking at the wall bored. Or laying on my bed just staring up at the ceiling bored. Constantly thinking of c...

. “Did you get it?” I'd ask “Did you get The Look ?” “Nah, don't think so,” she'd say. “She was normal. Just miserable” “Hm....

. Now...             Johnny was the kind of guy who'd get you in a headlock then playfully twist and grind his knuckles deep down into...

. One day I will tell you of the time I worked as the school's milkboy, delivering the fresh crates to the classrooms each morning, th...

. Three pieces about loss following the death of The Man I Called "Dad." --- #1  Nightmares The nightmares began the day my ...

. I'm not sure if it's the booze which turns me psycho or if it just brings it to the fore. In any case it mattered little: It was ...