"It was the terminal kind and goddammit, leave it to San Francisco and their progressive burn the trail ethics, the roommates fathers wife drove the father to the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge, pulled over, and let him out. They said their goodbyes, she from the drivers seat and he as he closed the passenger door, then off he went."
Ya published this while I was getting poked in the hand coz that's the only place they can get blood. Anyhow, muchly touching, thank you.
Ouch I had that problem when I was a heroin addict. I hope you’re doin good, Scott. Love to you.
Thanks Roddy, I just have baby veins in a 50y/o bod.
I’m falling in love with your writing! I hope to catch your book reading on the 21st. I’ll be in nyc for my 40th.
The blood flows away from the swollen veins and the skin temporarily smooths out.
Nosferatu: How many times did I check my watch? So so many.
Oh my gah why does the hand thing work? Also silent cheer is all about hands too. I love reading your Substack.
"It was the terminal kind and goddammit, leave it to San Francisco and their progressive burn the trail ethics, the roommates fathers wife drove the father to the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge, pulled over, and let him out. They said their goodbyes, she from the drivers seat and he as he closed the passenger door, then off he went."
Jeeeeesus, what an image!
Take a look at these hands; they’re passing in between us.
Enthusiastically snapping fingers like those beatniks... see you at the shows. Running to Almodovar ❤️
"My hands are not capable of wrongdoing, my hands only know progress."
Thank you for these words <3