Sitting with drink in hand, in the very stool where Elizabeth enjoyed herself just before stumbling into her own legend... becoming the Black Dahlia.
She's my west coast Dylan Thomas. Here we all are... the anti-glam. Its ok to fail here. Nothing will be reported, yet these walls will stand long after our best mistakes.
This is the kind of bar that spawns themes.
I can learn everything about you in the time that it takes for your eyes to adjust to the gloom. It feels the same here. My Hollywood home. Off the map of the living.
My elbow is up for Charles Bukowski. I hear we have more in common than just this seat at the bar.
Threw safety to the wind but secretly tied a string and used it as a kite. Now it's all tangled in the skyline.
I'm in love with foreigners and the way they treat me. I've got a lucky arrowhead in my wallet from a new far away friend.
I can't wait to see my four-legged best friend tomorrow. Home is where your dog is.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
