Do you remember those 5 am mornings? No coke, no parties, no one else, even, just the wind down, the heartbeat slowing after a barshift, making sure you don't forget to polish straws or whatnot. This, someday, will be the opening sentence(s) to my largely autobiographical novel. It will be a terrible novel, full of dudes having sex with girls and then feeling bad about it and girls who fall in love with guys who are clearly horrible for them, as they aren't the protagonist, and perhaps a move to a "new city" and then someone will kill someone just to keep the action rising, and perhaps then an asian drug cartel will get involved, but don't worry, one of the girls -- or maybe best friends-- of the protagonist is also asian so this particular plot development is not, in fact, racist.
like i said, this is going to be one fucking stinker of a novel, and as such will probably be well loved on literary blogs, for it's plot development, like when I-- I mean "the protagonist"-- drinks ten dark beers one night because he can't get to sleep, dammit, then vomits at church.
it's a statement about religion, baby. I just gotta be me.
*always sort of wished that in the last chorus of this song, it didn't go back to the melodic part, but they just yelled and broke stuff.