I try to explain my faults to the infrequent woman who might show an interest, but they don't understand.
I'm a writer. I have faults.
Too many, too lucid, whilst thinking.
I like to drink booze and smoke cigarettes. I like to eat when I want and where I so desire. I like to travel and don't want to make plans. My life is a suitcase and a broken car, and these few luxuries help explain why I so chose the lifestyle I have.
My income is modest, by some standards, and yet enough to allow me a few pleasures.
But a companion?
I don't think this is possible. I'm not husband material.
I like to stroll about without the need to ask permission. My where abouts are my own device. Why should the importance of my walking or leisures be of concern to any one?
Like I said, I'm not husband material.
But I am, what writers do, and I do what writers can to make do.
I'm a writer. I have faults.
Too many, too lucid, whilst thinking.
I like to drink booze and smoke cigarettes. I like to eat when I want and where I so desire. I like to travel and don't want to make plans. My life is a suitcase and a broken car, and these few luxuries help explain why I so chose the lifestyle I have.
My income is modest, by some standards, and yet enough to allow me a few pleasures.
But a companion?
I don't think this is possible. I'm not husband material.
I like to stroll about without the need to ask permission. My where abouts are my own device. Why should the importance of my walking or leisures be of concern to any one?
Like I said, I'm not husband material.
But I am, what writers do, and I do what writers can to make do.