Tuesday 19 May 2009
Thursday 14 May 2009
Wednesday 13 May 2009
Charles Freck, becoming progressively more and more depressed by what was happening around him, decided, finally, to off himself. There was no problem in the circles where he hung out in putting an end to yourself. You just bought a large quantity of downers and took them with some cheap wine. The planning part had to do with the artifacts he wanted found on him by later archeologists. He had spent several days deciding, much longer than he had spent deciding to kill himself. He would be found lying on his back, on his bed, with a copy of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and an unfinished letter to Exxon, protesting the cancellation of his gas credit card. That way, he would indite the system, and achieve something by his death, over and above what the death itself achieved. At the last moment, he changed his mind on a decisive issue and decided to drink the pills with a connoisseur wine, instead of Ripple or Thunderbird. So he set off on one last drive, over to Tiny's Liquors, which specialized in fine wines, and bought a bottle of 2001 Azalea Springs Merlot, which set him back almost seventy dollars. Back home again, he uncorked the wine, let it breathe, drank a few glasses of it, tried to think of something meaningful but could not, and then, with a glass of Merlot, gulped down all the pills at once. However, he had been burned. Instead of quietly suffocating, Charles Freck began to hallucinate. The next thing he knew, a creature from between dimensions was standing beside his bed, looking down at him disapprovingly.
Friday 8 May 2009
Amid the chaos of that day, when all I could hear was the thunder of gunshots, and all I could smell was the violence in the air, I look back and am amazed that my thoughts were so clear and true, that three words went through my mind endlessly, repeating themselves like a broken record: you're so cool, you're so cool, you're so cool. And sometimes Clarence asks me what I would have done if he had died, if that bullet had been two inches more to the left. To this, I always smile, as if I'm not going to satisfy him with a response. But I always do. I tell him of how I would want to die, but that the anguish and the want of death would fade like the stars at dawn, and that things would be much as they are now. Perhaps. Except maybe I wouldn't have named our son Elvis.
Thursday 7 May 2009
Monday 4 May 2009
How sad - this is what your life has been reduced to - a single room apartment containing no more than a mattress.
The strings have been removed from the blinds and all the outlets have been painted over.
The television screen is streaked with blood smeared from your knuckles as you were trying to punch it out but you underestimated its strength, or maybe you just weren't trying hard enough.
Startled by a knock at the door you rise for the first time in two days to answer, but you can only greet the visitor with one short statement.
Hello my first name is distance and I really don't care if I never wake up again.
Hello my name is distance and I really don't care if I never wake up again.
Hello I really don't care if I never wake up again.
I really don't care if I never wake up again.
The strings have been removed from the blinds and all the outlets have been painted over.
The television screen is streaked with blood smeared from your knuckles as you were trying to punch it out but you underestimated its strength, or maybe you just weren't trying hard enough.
Startled by a knock at the door you rise for the first time in two days to answer, but you can only greet the visitor with one short statement.
Hello my first name is distance and I really don't care if I never wake up again.
Hello my name is distance and I really don't care if I never wake up again.
Hello I really don't care if I never wake up again.
I really don't care if I never wake up again.
Sunday 3 May 2009
I don't feel the sickness yet, but it's in the post.That's for sure. I'm in the junkie limbo at the moment. Too ill to sleep. Too tired to stay awake, but the sickness is on its way. Sweat, chills, nausea. Pain and craving. A need like nothing else I've ever known will soon take hold of me. It's on its way.
Saturday 2 May 2009
"Your heart is my piñata."
In the Mexican Catholic celebration of Christmas,the piñata is traditionally shaped like a seven-pointed star, which represents the devil and the seven deadly sins while the contents are the goods or blessings he is withholding. Striking the devil with faith, symbolized by being blindfolded, releases the blessings.
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