sober minded

Sober four days now. Feels horrible. Hope nobody took that shotgun in the gastank poem seriously. Some days I think if I could just paint in someone's basement and they bring me booze and food and smokes, keep the fucking money, just give me some music, Leonard Cohen, Warren Zevon, Beethoven...long list...I would be happy. And that's probably the arrangement Basquiat made with the devil. So what, the worldly affairs, like paying electric bills and uploading paintings onto ebay are so time consuming and frustrating for me that I get little work done. I was doing pretty well before I fell into the bottle, and though still I was working and doing good stuff, everything to do with the beaurocracy of my life became a tangle. Sorting it out now, but difficult. Difficult.