Goldfish

Goldfish is a hard novella to sum up. Following my failure to complete 50k in one November in 2011 I succeeded by allowing myself to write ad hoc create a collage and wax poetical across every page. Though you will find merely a sober chain smoking mind in a world where nobody has a name but me J.R.; as I wrote in Starbucks in Wellington Circle the details of a book that is about the train ride to the Wellington Circle Starbucks and the ensuing work night to write the book itself: sketched on the train ride home a shit show you know; to try to ennoble such a life to and fro back and forth nothing but dreams and coffee and dream smoke trailing as I drifted wraithlike up the stairs realizing of course as told by a somnambulist who visits me purple lidded once more a Goldfish flying solo peering through the funhouse g/ass at the world outside develops a soul of ice snot to be glared at by normal people with bugged out eyes.