My astonishment orchestrates a gasp in my lungs, glues a hand to my mouth as I stare surprised at the mess on the bedroom floor who still hasn't recovered, and through this all I can only shape one sentence that sums everything up pretty well, a sentence that pains me to say. "You're sick, Lucien." All my companion does is install a narrow tunnel into his eyes, a conviction like no other. "Isn't every writer?" All Allen Ginsberg needs is a library book on rhyme and meter, things he absolutely abhors for being so ever present yet things he requires for his blog article. What he finds is rather a young librarian and writer by the name of Lucien Carr, choking on cigarettes and booze and the glamorous life of deterioration -- and just like his writing, it's quite magnificent. ~~Wattpad Featured Book 19 September, 2016~~

end my life

He was a billionaire, I was a bellboy, can I make it anymore obvious? It all started one fateful afternoon in summer of 2012. I was working as a bellboy at the Trump Hotel in Hong Kong on an internship program. This was my first time in a big city. It was all I could have ever dreamed of, and more. But little did I know, it was all about to change. Follow me on twitter.com/aguywithnolife Please note, this story may contain mature humor that isn't suitable for all ages.