December 15th, 2013
Whenever Bogart is otherwise occupied, or passed out from excessive speaking, I take the opportunity to sit with the brilliant poet girl whose name I learned is Kristin. I’m kind of amazed that I’m willing to listen to her talk after having Bogart going on all day long every fucking day. Compared to him, she seems quiet. She has a quiet voice but she speaks fast. She has inspired me even further to begin my novel. I’ve drafted it all out. I haven’t been able to read much since Bogart arrived. He follows me around and talks to me even when I’m sitting there with my face in a book. Hopefully I’ll be able to write. He doesn’t follow anyone else around like that.
He’s beginning to drive some people nuts though, which is a weird way of putting it, I know. One woman screams at…
View original post 707 more words