always the way.
from photo to history.
iPhone to bookshelf.
all the way to some sad bastard's backseat in Los Feliz.
I'm dancing.
which is what I call writing.
at least these days.
doing the whiskey tango in the headwinds of Hollywood.
I don't have the answers.
because I am not a knife.
I don't slice for I am dull.
as we tumble, be sure to catch us at the bottom of the hill(s).
come on, love.
draw your swords.
shoot me to the ground.