This piece is about my bottom. I hit bottom while living in our apartment in the Mission District. The Iraq war infuriated me and I didn't deal with it very well. The rock band that I was leading and pouring myself into fell apart and I was resentful. I was evolving into a, biter, stay at home, drunkard hermit. This was the scene at the begriming of the end...
I was drinking Jack Daniel's at four in the morning after getting a few hours of sleep (this was somewhat common). I way hunched over my laptop, swigging, as I was writing some gibberish. I was working on a book of non-fiction short stories. I was on around the 250th page. I sat up and fumbled the laptop. It crashed to the floor with the screen open. The LCD display way totally cracked to pieces and the liquid inside was spreading and mixing in ways it shouldn't. Being a web designer I had just destroyed my whole work space, with one stupid drunken fumble. The series of events catapulted me into AA recovery, so it turned out to be the best drunken fumble of my life. Here is what I was writing right before I dropped the computer...
"Every time this shit dcomes around I canít even tal about it and that is why Iím opn that stupiud typer. I wish I was a mostly adjustred dude but Iím 2trying to figure it out the hard way, I love everyone totally b3ut I still live in a non existance, oh well. Iím going out to walnut fucking creek ao shit, so it goesÖ"
Later I took a photo of the destroyed laptop screen and incorporated it into the upper left corner of this very personal piece.