just didn’t need to know

St. Louis was going to save me.  I was going to plant the fragile seedling of my flowering mental health there and ride its rising growth up out of myself.  Instead the stalk was trampled in a wild ride of debauchery and loneliness and barbecue and insanity and music and despair.  I learned so much.  What I didn’t learn was how to save myself.  This song was playing.

“And I could blame it all on you my dear, but really who’s to blame?”

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