B&B

People ask me why I hang out with Burroughs and Bukowski they have this picture of me this image, they assume knowledge and scholarship on the subject of ME Yet those who understand art, or think they do know there is more to Mona Lisa then her smile Depth of perception, illusion mirage layers. I roll with B&B because I can relate to them on a unique level. No I am not an alcoholic I don't drink no I don't shoot Junk I've never done drugs, yet I can relate to this loneliness. That desperate feeling of being trapped trapped in a crypt or maze with myself. The only comfort the other dead or dying, never quiet in the same state as myself. Cold, chilled the howling of ghouls my only company. Trying to be free, get out of the well, the hole that we all sometimes revisit, some never able to crawl out. Stuck down below the depths of anyones perception but my own. Trying to explain situation is like returning to a hall of stone statues unfeeling uncaring unnoticed, you jump into the pages of "junky of "Come on In" and you find you are not as alone with this Big Beast, this shadow of loneliness, that is always there in your mind, the back usually, the symbiosis, the parasite that uses you like a whore or donkey. A literary AA meeting where we can all relate to one another. Similarities sharing can save those in need. B&B have helped me see who I am the best anti-depressants out there.