Day One

Leaving this town today.  Four long years spent doing battle with drunks and Albanian hairdressers.  Unsure of feelings.  New fights to seek, new adventures to be had, spend the next four years wandering the earth.  Rebel, rebel.  Perhaps I will follow my friend Alan's path.  He had children in the hope that their innocence would redeem his shattered soul.  But Sarah was only pretty for a day, 1987.  O! if only The Clark were here with me now!  The Clark and His Kittens.  

Shower soon, train later.  Food first.  But finish this act of creation.  My friend has recently opened a retreat for the mentally fazed and dazed.  Perhaps I shall join my fellow sufferers there.  They have a psychiatrist on call, and enough medication to sedate a hippo.  I could use some time getting reacquainted with nature.  The retreat is on a farm, and I would like to be able to play with the animals.  Maybe there I can reopen my case study (future post).  

Well, I'm sitting here in this art gallery, sweetly rambling.  But I suppose my people would like to get back to their porn and their books and their solipsistic inconsideration of my Weltanschauung.  So I'll update you folks as the adventure unfolds.

Adieu.