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My favorite flick, *Requiem for a Dream*, fits perfect. That spiral, man, that’s them. Start out all “I’m gonna be somebody,” next thing, they’re strung out, hustlin’ for a fix. Breaks my heart, but what can I do? I ain’t no saint. I call one up, she’s all business, “30 minutes, 200 bucks.” I’m thinkin’, “Fuck, that’s a steal!” – sarcasm, obvi. She shows up, smells like cheap perfume and regret, and I’m like, “Gabagool? Ova here!” just to break the ice. She don’t laugh. Tough crowd.

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Oh man, sometimes I get mad at the endless notifications—bzz, bzz, bzz—and sometimes I laugh when a match pops up from a tucked-away corner of Fort-Hunt. It's weird, but fun. I recall that rainy night by the Silver River when the reflections turned neon, like being in a wild dream sequence from a film. I shouted, "I want to be free!" like our favorite movie line… err, something like that. (Pardon my geeky feels.)

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