Been working on a paper that I can’t really work on because I forgot all my sources at school.

Also, been filling out job applications. Applied to:

Terrain, Anthropologie, Urban Outfitters, Delia*s, American Apparel,  Borders, Ritz Camera, and some other places I DON’T KNOW THEY ALL START TO LOOK THE SAME AFTER A WHILE.

Been listening to Dr. Dog a LOT. Finding “Die Die Die” to be particularly significant for some reason. God damn they are good.

It turns out cigarettes can kill you
’cause when you didn’t come back
every time that I thought of you
I smoked a whole pack

I was up to about seventeen packs a day
I was refueling too
about every hour or so
I drank a bottle of white mule

I wasn’t thinking about turquoise
I wasn’t thinking about gold
I wasn’t thinking about thinking
or about getting old

got to be so I didn’t care
if I was leaving or loving
oh, what I was
and what I was becoming

I don’t want to die in your arms
I just want to die
don’t want to die in you arms
I just want to die



One Response to “Christ on a motorbike”  

  1. I love the poem!

    I think 17 packs of cigarettes a day probably would kill you pretty quick….

    :)


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