DIVE INTERLUDE

It’s a couple of days later and man, I need sleep. So fuck it. I didn’t work but I’ve been having fun drinking, doing drugs, taking self-portraits, and writing instead. Dive motels make me so happy, although this bed sucks some serious ass. I feel so comfortable in filth. This place is a trip. There’s no air conditioning, which is nuts, but it’s spring, so it’s not that hot out. All of the entrance doors automatically lock at 4 p.m. To keep the undesirables out, I assume. Or in, I’m not sure. The hallways smell of bleach. To cover up what? I don’t want to know. The few people I’ve seen are down-in-the-dump types. I think you can get weekly or monthly rates here. It’s a medium sized, two-story motel, but seems to be only about fifteen percent occupied by druggies, losers, boozers, hookers, and me. I couldn’t feel more at home. Was I ghetto born or ghetto made? My mom struggled financially, but I didn’t grow up around this. I grew up out in the country, basically. But then again, when you live with a drug dealer, you see all types. And I spent a fair share of time walking through bad neighborhoods in the city. I like the so-called, “scum of the earth.” There’s less pretense. People are straight shooters. I’m like that. I can dig that. I respect it. 

 

 

 

Please reload

    Recent Posts

    February 13, 2020

    January 11, 2020

    January 4, 2020

    January 4, 2020

    November 13, 2019

    November 6, 2019

    November 6, 2019

    Please reload

    Sita Kaylin © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Copying an artist's work is illegal under U.S. comprising both a civil and potentially criminal violation of the copyright statute.