
“Met Johnny Marr last night. Did it for you really. When I shook his hand I gingerly probed his callouses & thought of you.
Never make me swear on the soul of my twin.
He was kind but jaded. Told me where to score. Told me to be ware. “He gave up smoking yesterday.” his wife (who’s name escapes me) Mrs Marr, told me from behind her hand. I didn’t scare.
Flash, done, myth, legend, 2 hands. No more heroes. Go through them all like cigarettes & what you got left? Is it really worth it? Thall shalt not worship false idols.
Idyl idle eye doll.
I hear Lou Reed’s a right old spazz these days.
I don’t know when to die. Some go too soon. Nietzsche says….then died too old, daddling mad with syphilis. There is no other half. Not unless you see it as those who do & those who don’t, those who show it and those who won’t. Those that change to live, or? Candy coated sinners.
Always alone.
Mental note. Don’t get killed crossing road in rain. “Carl Barat writing to Peter in the Books of Albion











































