I will be 68 on the 22nd - I was here

I'm sitting in a 60's junk apt. it was built by some "smart" dudes who figured out they could tear down nice single family homes and cram in 5 or more units with only 3 tiny garages to go with the tiny apts. No insulation. Paper thin walls. Impossible to even breathe let alone anything without everyone hearing you. Can't play my guitar. It was hot as fuck in here this afternoon. All my injuries in my body, mind, soul are raging inside me. it hurts. a lot. I'm disgusted with people. Most of all myself. I don't want to be born again in body that gets sick and dies. Doesn't seem possible. I absolutely hate writing. I was painter. Always wanted to be one. it's great it you can buy a home and pay to live. If not then you are a loser bum. I'm talking about me. was a guitar player too. Even got a song on a Sublime record. Really! so I sit here trying find a reason to wake up in the morning.

That's my initials there RF - I was here