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XX. "Observations of a Dying Aspirer"
This past week I was kept away from all writing and working because I was sick. It was terrible and it was hard. I vomited, sobbed, sweated. Once I stumbled to the grocery store to buy Tums, and along the way tried to get hit by a bus. I didn't have the energy.
Being sick, and convinced of imminent death, I had nothing to do but make observations on all the modern art, music and culture in my apartment, of which this column is supposed to be about.
Here is what I remember (I was on a lot of drugs).
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