it is my first night in the room.

i'm excited. see, no one else will be here for at least three days - it's just me and him. best friends. i'm never the jealous-girl type, and i mean, i understand when he's far too busy to pay me attention sometimes, but these two weeks - before his nonsense starts - we're gonna pull all the stops. there's a mass of sound building up inside of me that needs to be written, and we're going to write it together. like the good old days. best friends.

it's stuffy as balls in this goddamn gig bag though. i fuckin hate travel.

Michael Costagliola

Project Sitemap Cyberspace
Web Creative Nonfiction