I got really tired. I kept walking like those drunk jocks told me down by the powerlines, and I kept on thinking that I could hear cars. That's what kept me walking. Yeah, it was probably 3 in the morning. There's no traffic in San Bernardino County at 3 in the morning. My mind didn't realize that. I hadn't had any water to drink and I had been walking around in the desert for 12 hours. "Fuck!, everybody's probably gonna think I did this just because I want attention." I mean, I do like attention, but not that much, and if I would get intentionally lost in the desert just for attention, I mean, that's pretty inconsiderate. I laid down in the dirt and ate three sugarless Lifesavers just to inspire my mouth to salivate. The moon came up over a hill. It was beautiful. It was awe inspiring. I didn't eat anymore. I didn't want diarreah. It'll give it to you. It says it right there on the package. "Dear, whoever in the fuck, you can have all my shit. Play depressing music at my funeral and get shit faced drunk every single day for a whole year in my memory. I want to be buried naked. And everybody that attends my funeral must have sex with each other. The two most important things in life: getting drunk and sex. I want it represented for my death." I jumped up and began walking again. I thought I heard traffic. It was actually just the buzzing of the power towers in case you hadn't already gathered that already. God fucking damn it, it was so beautiful. I got Aflack. I'm not sure how you're supposed to collect on it when you're a dead rotten bloated corpse in the desert. I was wondering about that. I mean normally, this would've been heaven for me. I love remote shit, and I love loneliness because it makes the company of another that the much sweeter once it comes, but I was saturated in fear. Fear, that I would never finish my dumb book. If I would've let myself, I could've busted out crying. But, once you start doing shit like that, it's hard to return. I placated me by thinking of ideas for my next book. I'm on death row in a foreign planet, and they're going to chop my head off and eat it, and as a policy they make you write an autobiography before you die. But, the whole thing is going to be me cussing out those that are about to kill me, and about a girl that I like that was fucking me before I got in jail, and she won't  come visit. I think my favorite book on the face of the planet is Hunger. It's about being hungry in case you hadn't already gathered that. Thirst? a blatant rip off. I can't help it  I can't help that it was summertime, and I went and shot a bunch of people in front of Grausman Chinese Theater. Superman told me as he was bleeding all over the stars, "Tomato!, why did you do this to me?" "TOMATOES, MOTHERFUCKER!!!! IT'S TOMATOES!!!!!!!!!! IT'S MORE THAT ONE TOMATO, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!" and then I fill superman with more holes. Hot weather makes me pissed off. "TELL, WONDERWOMAN, i ALWAYS WANTED TO FUCK HER!!!!!," but I was too shy to do anything about it. I saw some cars driving way off in the distance, so I walked in that direction. I f I just get there, and lay down in the middle of the trail, when they run me over, they have to stop, right? I mean, I might dead and all that, but they'll have to stop. I want to be buried in Austin. That one graveyard over east of the 35. And, I want to be wearing my skull ring, and I want everybody to kiss my corpse's face. Kiss my on the lips, you stupid ass bitch! Is it OK? Can the dead Tomatoes say, "you stupid ass bitch!"? I mean, I;m dead for shit's sake. At least give me that. And bury me with Steel Reserve. And, I'll drink it. I promise. So, anyway, I was so very tired. I fell down a few more times. Took a whole bunch of naps. I finally got to the road where the cars drive. I turned around three times and made my pallet of crunched gravel. The lonely sex wolf howling alone in the desert. It was so soft down there. It was comfortable to say the least. I curled up in Tomato's towel . I was smelling it hoping that that smell would keep me alive . The sun came coming up. It stirred me a bit, and then low and behold, a car came barreling down the trail. They had their headlights on. I screamed and yelled, "DEAR NATALIA!!!! i'M FUCKING DEAD." I ran in front of the car, and she curved around me. It was this lady, she had me sit in the backseat just to make it that much easier to strangle her. And much to my disfortune, she was talking about Jesus. I felt like a pussy to not've strangled her. I would've been doing the world a favor. One less christian equals one tiny little step towards a more pleasant world. Imagine a world without Jesus where people are nice to each other just because that's what you're supposed to do. So, suffice to say, she let me have it. She was a native American. More to come.