Thursday, July 3, 2008

coming up roses of another kind

“do you do heroin”

“what? No, no, never I've never done any drugs, I learned about them in school. They mess your life up, a lot, so does alcohol, I guess you must have missed health class a lot or something.”

“oh, well, you have good veins for heroin”

“oh, well thanks, I guess, I think, thanks?’

“its ok, you can think I'm weird, I am, I know it,

I can see the blue beneath your skin, its just like you, twisting like a mountain stream, cold, quiet and loud, and a hellish blue--God, I’v never seen anything like it, something so beautiful, captures you, presses you into the period at the end of a sentence, sucks you into despair, into nothingness”

“oh, does it.”

“yeah it does, what are you doing later?”



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I think its safe to say the first encounter I have ever had with a drunk/high college girl was most likely the most informative encounter I have had with anyone. Ever. Such raw, repugnant, poetry driven out in a mist of vodka and back-washed beer, shook the marrow of all 206 bones within my body. it is indeed, a modern circus.

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