wouldn't we all?

it's in a clear plastic frame that i swiped from the dining hall where i first saw him. it's one of those cheap things in which the elves of bu put announcements about student activities and events.

wedged in the crevice of the frame, there's a post-it note, yellow and slightly chewed by dr. gonzo, that says "somewhere other than inside the out there" in his handwriting with one of his more frequent doodles, a profile with a grimace and single teardrop and delicately etched bow tie. he gave me the scrap of paper as i was going to work one day, one day when i felt truly punished by my lot in life.

he's sitting on the edge of my tiny dorm room bed, face slightly turned away from the lens. you can see a slight blur of christmas lights in the back ground and a wall, full of posters and photos. his eyes point directly at the camera, and his elbow is propped on his knee. camel light halfway to his mouth where a large grin waits for the next drag.

his hair is perfectly spiked.

a few bracelets are wrapped tightly around his wrist.

it was a cold october. he's wearing his dark olive wool trenchcoat.

stuck on his lapel is a black button with white writing ....

"i'd rather be breathing"