A washed-up writer drifts through 1990s Los Angeles, reinventing himself under a new name and stumbling through poetry slams, odd jobs, desert hallucinations, and fading dreams. Haunted by past lives in adult entertainment and half-written scripts, he searches for meaning in cheap coffee, quiet bars, and accidental friendships. Told in a dry, darkly funny voice, this novel explores self-destruction, survival, and the slow, unglamorous crawl toward clarity. It’s not a redemption arc—it’s a detour through broken neon and forgotten names. For anyone who ever felt the credits rolled before the story really began.