December 15th 1979, this single room apartments covered in books i haven't read. The girl with cigarette eyes is standing in her underwear in the doorway, and I've become...Something that i don't want to be, i've lost all inspiration. place hands change face make everything just like it is in a painting. But I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. Help me be saved from this art I've made, it consumes me, holds me down in bed at night. All these paintings they are just a waste of space, every stroke, each creation failed, All of my work cant last forever, so I'm trapped in ink, where do you find your inspiration