Anything to Know

A Sunday walk in Golden Gate Park, she was singing with some guys. "Damn, she's good", I thought to myself.
Walked into the Camel Bar in North Beach and saw her again. She was real drunk, loud. Who is she? From across the bar I could see her pain, but she had so much energy, drugs? I was a mouse, she a lioness with a thorn in the heart. "Fucking this, fucking that", she needs to, loose a few pounds, take a shower and change those sweat stained cloths...No thanks, I'm better than you, and have a thorn of my own.
Winterland with my friends, everyone was high...No thanks, I don't smoke and it messes up my time reality. Ball and chain pounded from the inside out, I could feel the words on the souls of my feet, psychedelic orange and pink, liquid smoke lights rolled in waves. "I've got to get out of here, I can't breath", I walked home to my studio on Gough street, higher than a kit.
My friends would point, "There she goes", they'd say. "Yah, so what? Nice(car) nasty paint job". I would listen to Cream and "her" album, and drink. I envied her guts. At eighteen I was already a drunk, only roaring a little, even then fear ruled my life, best to play it safe.
She had many lovers, one girlfriend had a shop in the Haight Ashberry. I made things to sell, so we talked often. "If she hurts you so much, what's the attraction?"
"She's wild"!
"Oh, but she's on self-distruct." How the hell did I know?