Remember saving our cigarette cellophanes from each state of pain buried geography coated in sugar plums and little beignets of Wayne all the way through Texas devouring western sunsets and tossing dirty guns and doing pulverulent white lines off glass table tops to the land of the stars that was not so bright, and driving fancy cars through Malibu along coastal tides embracing speedy highs smelling sweet salty brine and staring at the Hollywood sign through our hotel window shattered with plans of forever? The snowy road broke our internet codes on Route 66 where we spent the night with Marilyn, then caffeine driven 24 hours straight through I-10 where round the bin eternity was waiting to halt our plans and we took our last bump through Memphis before the wide eyed end of our foolish time, dehydrating our youth and sweating out the past that we hoped would last for the future and the sake of the fucking almighty hand that ripped apart our souls because t...