It’s so hard creatively now being a target victim and broke ass bitch.
I had to sell my guitar and amp. I can’t write poetry usually and if I do, it’s sucko. I can’t afford canvasses or even canvas paper. Hell, I cannot afford to stay safe and buy food. I use my foodstamps and my mom sends me enough for a monthly bus pass and a few dollars each month. I don’t ask. She just sends it but it’s not enough. She doesn’t understand. She’s on crystal methamphetamine so she doesn’t understand much of anything.