Drowning in the Shallows


Be Sorry . . . Less

I wished for a simple peace of mind.

It came to me on a street corner in New York City in the middle of the night as I was walking off a bout of insomnia and getting nowhere with it. And isn’t that the way it is? That you find somewhere in the middle of standing still.

It happened suddenly, like a lightning strike on a still night. It was a loose thought that got away from me. This thought that we’re all gonna die and that I might as well gain peace of mind before it’s done. It was taking me on this hopeless fucking trip, as if I’d just shot up Bukowski. You can overdose on bad shit like that, which is where the wish came in.

Wishes are crazy things. There’s a sanctified applique to wishes I never have been able to understand. They’re made of air…

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