for you. Write the shit in my mind, because you thought that you would want to get out of your mind more than you did when you were alive, but you didn’t. You died silent. But don’t worry, Christians say that is the only way to die, silent and solemn. Then you dream well. Do you believe them? I don’t. I don’t think I do anymore. My father eats and shits and watches Springer. I get stoned and write short stories that I think maybe if i’m lucky might come to me in the form of an actual short story and not pure shit of my mind and it always comes out a little bit of both and all I can do is hope that the future will look at my work as valuable so that maybe while i’m alive I can actually get a little money so I can buy some shit for my bronchitis so I don’t hack to death, so I can sell my motorcycle and get a little car so I can go out on a date and chicks won’t think i’m a total loser and maybe my life won’t be a total waste. In the meantime, it is. And I write. I write a short story for you because I think that maybe you would want it that way. You would want a short story about the process of not really knowing how to harness all of your energy to write a short story and yet having the short story called a short story anyway. Then you get the money and you can get out of your shit situation like I can get out of mine, you can turn your heat up in the winter. You can work less. You can ache less. You can deal with stupid people less and just be by yourself more and maybe get stoned in a relaxing way or sit there with a drink because you not only gave yourself a mental enema, but you got paid for it and you knew the whole thing was shit and yet it didn’t care because they all bought it. They bought that all the mental puking you did on the page was somehow worthwhile and that you showed them a little bit about the imagination, free association, the nature of literature itself and you know it’s impossible that it really is shit and only by a stroke of luck, luck such as comes only once in a lifetime, some idiot reviewer might see your piece you