Island of Misfit Toys Pt. II

Ya know...when I moved to St.Thomas, I found a bunch of people who did a similar move, (Me: I went for a wedding and never went back). I absolutely loved these people, yet, I scrawled, on our graffiti strewn apartment(our own Harring existence) that this WAS the island of Misfit toys. This was not a dis.

I feel like this is the existence wherein I want to live.

Maybe it is pressures of trying to find a job, or like (gulp) trying to find a lover and stuff, but I find (I sense it) myself getting very ornery. I'm a grouch/sceptical for most parts of my day. I see zero acts of kindness while I have headphones on listening to bands who promote loveliness. The days of the "ole cat ran up a tree and the firemen came out" scenario is so gone. Nice makes page 8, under the fold.

I left St.Thomas because crack became an epidemic there and I sensed it. I actually went with this guy called Tan to buy it (cue Elvis), in the ghetto.

And in 2 months I lost my job, my sanity, my pseudo girlfriend and I felt myself slipping into hell. A hell which I still have a mailbox at.

I never told anyone about my extra-curricular activities. I was just, not present sometimes.

What I need to say is, that, obviously every place has it's Crack-town these days, I still feel I would have bettered myself to stay. The Internet and all that shit was not around. Cripes...did I even have a Walkman? Ya see? Sweet dreams...