I have no idea how I lived on that piece of shit street in West Oakland for almost eighteen months. What a bad beat that was.

Well: I did a lot of weird stuff, and I now know what it’s like to be completely dead broke for months and months, barely paying rent and often going without food for days at a time . . . and also I survived some truly horrible events, and met a lot of people, some good and some bad

So who knows, maybe it did something to me

Maybe it helped me, is what I’m saying

Though, again: who the heck knows, man

Now I go out onto my porch and it is completely silent. Sometimes I can hear a train passing through Emeryville Station. I can hear one now. A few minutes ago I heard a barge in the San Francisco Bay. It’s real nice. On Mead Avenue I heard people screaming or crying almost constantly.

And now, when I have the door open, I can smell flowers. There are so many flowers growing in my backyard and on my street! People actually give a damn about our neighborhood. Before it was all blight and chaos. I didn’t see a live animal for months at a time.

It’s way better here! I live a block from my job. I spend very little money. My roommates are real good.

Hmm!!

Photo on 3-13-15 at 22.13 #3

At least once a week I hear someone say “I don’t know how anyone could like cats”

And I always want to say “Well, I love my cat very much, and he makes my life a lot better, so I guess I’m a fucking moron”

Here is my review on “going to shows” at the age of twenty-seven:

“Man, I really wish I was home. Also I wish I could have that $15 back.”

The end!

As it turns out, I don’t really care about anything that goes on outside my front door. I tried! It was mostly a waste of time. Also: hey, baby, I’m trying my best over here! I can only control and take care of myself. Good luck with the rest of the world, jerks!!!

When people say they don’t like The Master I’m like whoa what how is that possible

At least once a day I think to myself “Yeah I would be OK dying right now I guess”

Dante just fell asleep in my arms while I was singing “In The Ghetto” to him

dantebday

Dante Starsailor gazes upon his quiet street in Oakland, California on the morning of his seventh birthday

Happy birthday little dude