Moving Out Moving In

  In this city you're always looking for three things, money, dick and an apartment. Leases are short and home owners are mostly the cruelest capitalits will ever meet. You rent a 2-bedroom apartment, with conjoined everything kitchen, dining table, washing machine and bathroom. Plus you don't get to legally work from home if you're an independent art worker like me which sucks and I do it anyway. I gotta pay the fuckin rent which keeps going up and up. So don't tell me how to earn my honest money. Anyway. Packing can be fun if you're organized and plan an outline beforehand but at certain moments you question your existence and it's time for a cigarette to get things back in line. In my case a hookah session, I don't smoke cigarettes. I'm getting this old apartment ready to return in pristine conditions and I can't wait to do so. I've suffered here more than I could ever imagine. And I commit myself to never let the same shit happens at the new place. Never again

Xoxo

Douglas