18.17 my plane lands @ Los Angeles international airport. Like a snake after hibernation I crawl into the light, and when my Karelian feet touch the boiling ground a wave of heat hits me like a wife abuser. I wear:
✝ A 1952 Italian straw hat to shield me from the sun.
✝ One pint of Gin to shield me from myself.

And as I gaze @ heaven I realize that for the first time in 4-ever, I AM HAPPY.
Then I catch my grinning reflection and remember: happy looks stupid.

I wonder what our old house looks like. I wonder if Pneumonia black is still sittin' on the pavement smokin cames without filters saving my life with every breath. I wonder what will happen 2 me.