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I used to be in good company with bad people. Cholo peasant kids we were.
Then I tripped hard and found musicians. Took up what made me professionally.
Some fellows there turned out wasters too, paranoid, mentally incestuous, rapey.
Had alcies lined up and got into lines, uppers and ting. Tweaksy crowd, badgood.
Manned up and set up a sort of life - first realgf, semi decent work and flat.
Grown up shit - holidays, dinner parties, pretending to care for lifestyle wank.
Lost her, lost it, went somewhat punk tard and started enjoying crustie mates.
--- That's about 1/4 and I've opened a new bottle already. ---
But what's the fucking point? All that went on was spot on when it did. Much of it feels like a bad Greenaway movie now. Sometimes you're a very different person even with folks you like, in the same period. Most of them are gone, which doesn't really happen, since it is a small town. A very few stick around 10 years on and more, still talk like brother/ -ettes though I moved across the water. What stinks with age is how people move on and one doesn't notice, because the picture we see them through was too solid. What stinks with the webnetbotclick (and yeah, we had imageboards in the 90s) is how isolated the microfilter, blinkers and safe space marketing makes us. My best mates were very different from me. But a real friend, close to your soul, you'll know when you meet. It's like a crush, only with NOICE instead of YUMMY, and has similar dynamics desu.
NOW HUG US YOU CUNTS I MADE ME SAD
