Now I see this clearly. My whole life is pointed in one direction. There never has been a choice for me.
June twenty-ninth. I gotta get in shape. Too much sitting has ruined my body. Too much abuse has gone on for too long. From now on there will be 50 pushups each morning, 50 pullups. There will be no more pills, no more bad food, no more destroyers of my body. From now on will be total organization. Every muscle must be tight.
Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man.
- That guy was pissed.
- He'll feel better when he looks in the back seat.
- Shit! That was my gold bar!
Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.
- We'll be back to pick you up in fifteen minutes.
- Take your time. I expect to be dead in four.
- You know how to pick this lock?
- Is this some black-shit again?
- Hey will you stop that racial shit? Are you a fuckin' locksmith or not?