it got out of hand

we make mistakes. thats what we do. we make mistakes and we learn from them and we live with them or at least this is how we cope. ive made mistakes in the past, sure. my history is filled with with errors and regrets. but there is no reason to look back upon them now in some stupid poetic reflection. and i wouldnt have the guts to even if i wanted.

but when youre having a meltdown on the corner of 7th street and Market in downtown san francisco and the warm afternoon light has trapped you in the real world and youre sweaty and anxious and horny and penniless and not feeling one single ounce of mercy upon you, you know the mistake youve made will leave a scar, a wound.

this was a big mistake.

a mistake so big that if i spoke of it now the history of it would be dented and uneven. every sentence would be pored over and edited and then erased and considered and then justified and trashed out of shame.

a mistake that takes place at a bar and then a house and then after the easy conversation with friends we took the mistake to the SUV and then looked for mistakes on the street. when the streets got to safe from behind the dark blue metal of the jeep decided to get out and look for mistakes on foot.

i wanted to get my hands dirty.

i found a few mistakes but none that couldnt be condoned. eventually, after finding myself in a series of exciting, yuet unsatifactory mistakes culminating with a mistake i had made in the gay guys hotel room with the thick latina hooker that kept passing me the crack pipe. i decided to look for mistakes elsewhere. i wanted edgier mistakes. more dangerous mistakes. unforgivable mistakes.

and i found it.

a mistake that will stain and color my legend. a mistake that we will get by and maybe over but a mistake we will never forget.

and i still havent figured out if it was worth it. there is a good chance it very well may have been.

but i cant even speak of it now. i can hardly type this sentence.

im just glad im home.