I Was Born To Hustle Roses Down The Avenues Of The Dead-

(charles bukowski)
It's ironic that the first time I read that I was so young, and on my own and already drowning in words and music and wine...it struck a chord even then. Growing up punk or whatever you'd like to call it (it's just another tribe to me) coupled with some details I'll never mention 'bout them formative years exposed me to death and violence very early on. But you never can get used to, cuz you love each person for them, for their tweaky little annoying habits and the way you can recognize their cough at a party in a room full of people. I've lost some of my nearest and dearest this past year, and now I share at least some of the pain of my one and only older brother in the loss of his best friend, lover, partner, girlfriend, Suzanne Day. We already miss her dreadfully. All I can do is what I love to do-I've never met anyone in my entire life who I had so much in common with. We love you, Suzy, and we will not forget.