It's too late I'm gone
Do you ever get that tingle deep down in the base of your spine - some little tick burrowing under your skin, a wave of anxiety pulling at your stomach - something that makes you want to grab your life by both hands and just bite it, just bite the holy hell out of it? Sometimes I'm just sitting, thinking, sewing, drawing, and I get this fever, this hot shitty mess that buzzes around in my brain until I have to quench the thirst, throw down the towel, run outside and let Manhattan sink into my teeth. I feel angry like a dog gnawing at a bone, I feel elated like a little kid on a ferris wheel, but most of all, I feel at peace with all this unrest.
2005-04-03 | 6:51 p.m.
