"The search for oblivion becomes frantic in the yawning 30 day stretch between Mardi Gras'; these days between are insufferable on the five stinking floors. A search for drugs turns acquaintances into barking-mad adversaries. Hammering at doors over cigarette-paper-sized debts, pitiful larcenies, and strange women begins at all hours of day and night. Other fucking assholes try to play bashed up stereos past the nightly till 4 A.M. musical experience occurring a floor beneath me. It's easier to get obliterated than sit wishing everybody dead."