it's now almost halfway through October.
and I don't give a good goddamn.
for almost 35 years.
and I don't have much but bookshelves to show.
your birthday is soon, but mine is sooner.
you've blocked me, shit on me.
forgot me, for good, for ill.
but I am still here, trying to resurrect.
I hope you are sincerely happy.
minus the irony.
I really love you still.
minus the question marks.
but I can't keep this up.
it takes too much energy.
and I have to worry about the Yankees.
my career, dating and more.
I have to write about other things.
other stories.
and try to be positive before I die.
with a sack full of quarters.
and with that, I say.
make a movie.
do something, anything.
say hi.
the new book is out today.
and you are mentioned in there twice.
so be brave and bold.
you are remembered so remember me.
do something, I dare ya.
because I can't keep putting my neck out there.
with nada in return.
don't just read this.