Smoke The Cigarette & Get Lost.
I go to smoke a cigarette. Out the front door and onto the stairs. Then, before I light it, I see an image in my mind of a more perfect moment – sitting on the porch where sitting is meant to be done. An American Spirit Light in my right hand, and a glass ashtray – heavy and thick – there to catch the debris of my smoking. On a chair. Relaxing, enjoying the tail
read onFather. Son. Break him.
God willing the father breaks the son. Breaks him right in two. The sword of truth, the sword of judgment. Nothing short of a miracle can save the son from the abyss if the father does not break the son. Discipline him. The father must break the son. God willing, the father breaks the son so the son knows how to break himself.
Rest in peace Layne Staley, you poor, talented bastard.


