I was drunk, coming off a bad end relationship with a heroin addict. I was slamming down shots of Maker's Mark, and smoking opium out of a small green waterbong. I had called the suicide hotline earlier, and they had hung up on me after I made sexual advances towards the woman counseling me. A teacup sat on the adjacent table to the bed on which I was self-mutilating. My intent was to fill it up with my own blood, then drink it, or masturbate with it as a lubricant. Eventually I got stoned out of my mind, cowered on the futon, and carved the word "FAG" on the inside of my left arm. The scar remains today.
I poured whiskey over the muscle-exposing wound, and then ran the base of my tongue over it, lapping up large quantities of blood and whiskey. I then did another shot, and did a hit of opium and a bump of crystal meth. By that time, I was flying. I found a case of Budweiser in the garage, and slammed down two cans, heaving them into the concrete with such force that they were dented. Afterwards, I began sprinting down the street in my boxers, leaving a trail of blood from the wound in my arm. I eventually collided with a concrete trash can, knocking the lid onto the earth. I realized where I was. My old high school.
*
I was up late looking at art prints on the Internet. Abstract Impressionism mostly. I was chain smoking, but totally sober, then realized I was out of Marlboros. I put on my coat, tucked in my wallet and keys and left for the Holland Oil cigarette mercantile. I decided to take a short cut through the football field of my old high school, and when I did, emerge into the light from the darkness, a fist with a pair of brass knuckles on it collided with my right eyebrow shattering my orbit, pouring blood down my face, and leaving me with a facial scar I have to this day. I reeled, almost collapsing to be mercilessly kicked to death, but regained my stance and began to dance. Three thugs were on my ass now, one of them taking shots, the other two laughing. I dodged the rest of his blows, not his cheap shot. "WHY CANT I HIT YOU!?" He howled. I was spitting insults and blood on him. At one point I wiped my blood-coated face on his and told him I had AIDS. He screamed. At another point I made a gesture like I was going to smash his skull through a window and drag his neck along the broken glass below. He screamed again. I then became infuriated and began shrieking the word "RAPE". A car drove up, full of young ladies. The thugs threatened them, and they all piled into the car, screeching off.
*
I began to smash the windows of the high school with my fists. I broke about fifteen, and made sure to drag my arms along the shards of glass, dripping blood down them. I also slapped a couple of bloody handprints on the walls. Still not satisfied, I sprinted home spilling blood on the pavement, and made two makeshift molotov cocktails, lighting them and heaving them at a concrete wall of the entrance on the school. Two enormous explosions. I ran home, took a handful of pills, and passed out.
*
I had decided to go up to Providence to run with a bunch of up and coming young gangsters to let things cool down for awhile in my hometown. I ended up waiting for 8 hours in a bus terminal in Cleveland because I was stoned and didn't realize that it was my bus that was leaving. At about six AM I boarded a bus for Rhode Island, smoking pot in the bus's bathroom out of an electronic pipe that literally fired the pot smoke down your throat when you held the button and lit the bowl, during the whole trip, and also during the stops. In the late evening, I arrived in Providence meeting with Dave, where we adjourned to his illegal apartment (a storefront we were living in and passing it off as a bookstore, because we had so many books) and got loaded on beer and pot, blasting Italian classical music and techno heavy metal, Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, Tool, and Aphex Twin. We slipped out later and ate calzones, I'm Irish German so I can never be made, but Dave was full Italian. The family suspected him of being a fag and a drug addict so he was way on the outskirts. To earn an extra 20-bag we delivered a huge burrito to Burrito Pete, who eventually got arrested for driving around Providence, dumping gasoline into dumpsters, and tossing grill matches into them. With it we bought more food, and a dime bag, and smoked joints and played computer games. Later on Jim came in who owned the storefront and began inhaling glue fumes. Halfway into it he asked Dave to lift his head out of the bag the glue was in because he was literally immobile. Dave did so, and Jim collapsed on the couch, passing out. The next day we drove to Vinny's. We bought bottles of vodka and chugged them in the car while we were driving. Afterwards, we smoked more bowls of marijuana. When we reached Vinny, we had decided to burglarize an apartment and sell the booty to a pawn shop. We broke in, and found the apartment already ripped off. Pissed, we left, and stole a car. We drove the car to a small plant, where a cocaine-snorting Italian purchased it from us for 3000 dollars. We spent it all on pot, food, coke, and booze, and went on a deep, self-destructive binge.
*
We ended up, Dave and I, in a parking garage vandalizing cars, drunk and completely stoned. On our way out, an egg landed on my head from the rooftop, my legs gave way, and I fell to the sidewalk. I got up, and we went and lifted about 1000 dollars worth of computers out of a local Best Buy, selling the hot shit to a local pawn shop. I bought two ounces of pot, and then we returned to the storefront to meet up with Molly, Dave's mistress. They fucked while I smoked pot and drank, and I eventually passed out on the computer. They forced me to buy them condoms. I did so, and woke up to Molly posing on the desk, and about five cum-filled condoms floating in the toilet bowl. I lay back down in bed, and fired up a bowl. Immediately stoned, the pot laced with formaldehyde, I began to twitch and got an erection. Molly was reading my books. She set the book down she was reading and laid next to me. She lifted up her shirt, exposing two small breasts with firm nipples, and a ripped stomach. We talked awhile, before I took her nipples into my mouth. I bit gently on them, flipping my tongue on the nipples front in between my front teeth. My hand squeezed her crotch, and she squirmed in pleasure. She took a hit of my bowl, then left before Dave woke up. I wonder if Dave even knows if he had fucked her that night. I decide to leave after that, boarding a bus for Ohio. I still had two ounces of pot on me, and a small bowl. As the bus roared from city to city and stop to stop, I took deep hits of marijuana every chance I got. My intention was to sell the rest, when I got home, to the locals. This was, after all, premium shit. At one point, we encountered the police. I was ready to eat the shit or chuck it into the john when I realized they were investigating an accident. At ease, I took another deep hit and almost hit my head on the bowl. Back in my seat, I began to take sips of vodka. I was ripped, and passed out. When I woke up, I was home, and called a cab back to my place, where I examined my loot. Dust. Nothing. I had smoked both ounces of the shit while smuggling it into Ohio. I cracked a beer, did a shot of whiskey, lit up a bowl, and laid back. I was broke, scarred, stoned, mentally ill, addicted, sick. I contemplated suicide, then walked into the bathroom, and pissed.
kurtice6@hotmail.com
he'd love some feedback
he's a very lonely man