The train to Brugge


1:20 P.M.


Heading to Brugge, Belgium. Nicole is very sick – achy, feels faint – and is really not happy. She keeps saying how she wants to die. I know it sucks that she’s so sick right now…but it’s really a fuckin’ downer. I keep trying to be positive – “You’re a champion!” She doesn’t find it amusing.

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. In the evening, I went out and smoked one last time by myself. Sacrificed dinner for weed. Priorities. It was a lot of fun. I just got super-stoned, sat at a coffee shop, and wrote post cards. I know that when people get them they’re gonna be like, “WTF?!” Then I went to the room to try to sleep. It worked for about an hour. Then came the Indian boys. Then the not-as-cute German girl who painted her nails and all I could smell was that god damn nail polish. Then Toni and her loud-ass mouth. Then the idiot NY boys. Then snoring. Then daydreaming. Showering, shaving, tattoos, packing, girls, Euro, girls…

It was night, but they were daydreams. I was awake.

Decided to get up and shower and shave my legs, like I had been dreaming of. Packed a bit. Tried to go back to bed.

No sleep.

I’ve fallen asleep on the train a couple times today…only to be woken up in ten minutes. Getting to see a lot of graffiti though. Cool shit.

The ‘Dam was great, but I’m ready to see more.

Brugge, here we come. Hope you have a comfy bed.

I really miss Mom.

Never underestimate the power of the idea.


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