1 year ago today my uptothen otherhalf decided to do the opposite with his life. i moved into the above room in a factory loft in bushwick bk 11206. i kept intending to spraypaint my door pink but couldnt bring myself to paint over the red tiger. i fulfilled my lifelong dream of getting addicted to heroin. i drew blood +thought about size. i had a weird thing with a bicycle. i kicked heroin. when the future looked like repetition until death i left. i told everyone i was flying on a certain day and then bailed a week early for the other coast leaving the can of pink spraypaint i never used and tons of other shit. i lust for black striped snow the last thing i cried next to.

10 days ago i dreamt myself back into the above teal hoodie and the pale eyed tiger said hello +actually it was a white tiger that had been painted on my door in my favorite color red +actually it had been waiting for me at least 2 years. the white tiger told me it was my spirit animal which to be honest at first grossed me out but has increasingly revealed itself so perfect as to be clearly stenciled by my guardian angels. 2 days after this dream on my exotherhalfs 32nd birthday i was flipping through a photo album 1 final time before i destroyed it for someone else and i came to a photo of the hollywood wax museum sign i had jokingly titled 'spirit animal'. in the lower left corner was a theatre marquee informing 'tiger tiger burning bright'.

since losing him and his oracle haircut, which i guess was the height of what he planned to attain, i have gained a spirit animal, a faggot wizard twin, a pimpcoat powerup, a fierce hat, a warhol, many enchanted links, +a set of metaphors pointed enough to finally implicate the god who made me. enjoy your mortgage sexyboy, i miss fucking you up the ass but respect you 4getting out of the way. tiger on wolf equals blond on blonde +1 make way for new nonfiction.