{ I am tired still. }

this Life is hard work, I say. Thirsty and sleepy. not as it should be. I have been feeling very low. very unhealthy. very spiritually irresponsible. I hate feeling this way. things are difficult at the moment. and I am pining over hope. I have some, but my Thirst seems to be distracting me. but Thirst too, is good. so I shall sleep now. and Tomorrow is brand new Day, alongside the tender Mercies. Pray for me, if you do pray, and if the mood should strike.


{ Joe or Casey; the Dead man. }

a diabolical breath fill the lungs of this sorry sailor. a Man died today. another servant of our alcoholic mistress. there was a party on his behalf. his ship finally came in. his ship did sail. and now, he stands at the foot of God. pleading his case. like We all will.

I did not know this Man. but he was alive at the same time as myself. we may have met. I don't know. nor would he. but he is dead now. and for a while, I am still here, with the living, at his death party. I hope that when I die, there is just as much ham, in my honor.

I have had three hundred death parties of my own, and for myself. each one spent alone. with a drink in my hand, ringing in the new age, the reinvention. after each one, drunk, I tell myself I am dead, and Tomorrow is the first of many Brighter Days. come morning, I wake to the same swollen eyes, still who I was, still who I am. still alive.

tonight, I drink to the old Man I didn't know. who I will probably never know, at least not here, amongst the living.

thank you for the ham.