yes, i actually wrote the first paragraph already.
whether out of a cynical heart to contribute art..or to just put something out there that will never seen a publisher's crammed deskspace.
i have seen far too many beautiful and violent things to not put pen to paper. Maybe its the fire and smoke from the recent Bangkok riots that have stirred a change within my reluctant insides. Perhaps its these lonesome nights as a midnight migrant in Tokyo that begs me to unlock these frantic thoughts into the third person.
semi-autobiographical bipolar nonsense.
i am my father's son. i am no one.
simultaneously screwing himself over.
an ESL cowboy singing Joe Strummer songs as this insignificant life plods on.
a one-man chorus of the Ameriasian blues.
i serenade in Mestizo songs of love lost and money squandered on live music.
someday I will see both Bali and Ho Chi Minh before Christmastime.
i will go Straight to Hell, boys and girls...
"Can you really cough it up loud and strong?
They want to sing all night long
It could be anywhere
Most likely could be any frontier
No man's land and there ain't no asylum here
King Solomon, he never lived around here"
R.I.P. Joe Strummer