Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Lazy Tuesday

Percocet, "ecstasy" (whatever un-godly batch of poison that consisted of) and just a pinch of vodka. My ingredients for a good day. I'd started to nod off while going over exercises in modal logic, making sure to close my textbook before the drugs took hold. Like a shaman of old, I drifted away into a patchwork of visions (in between itching my nose) as the loving embrace of dopamine crammed its phallus into my brain. Not thinking about anything in particular, I let it have its way with my senses.

"Someone has to do it."

"Do what?" I asked

"Grab my bike,"

Jace quietly smoked a cigarette as I (coming to my senses) found myself somewhere... fuck, I can't remember for the life of me but it seemed so familiar. Wait! I hadn't seen Jace in over 5 years and I was shorter, lacking a beard and... innocent, or as innocent as any 14 year old could be. Caring more about Yu-Gi-Oh cards than catching a buzz.

"I'll fucking owe you big time man. That guy's an asshole and I DO NOT want to go anywhere near his yard."

"Uh..." I stuttered.

Quite suddenly, I came to. Buried under a fort of blankets. A half empty pint of vodka sitting on my nightstand. Slowly, I got up and used the aforementioned liquor to wash down a couple of Tums. Back to dream-land.

I was almost out of Mr. Filed's yard. The neighborhood "block captain." In all reality, he was curmudgeonly, piece of shit that enjoyed putting poisoned food out for stray cats. Hence the reason, Jace and I had egged his house and hauled ass to the nearby cornfield.

"What do you think you're doing you little prick?!?"

Ah, shit.

This time, it was a knock on my door that brought me back.

"Hello," I said in weak breathy tones.

The doorknob twisted and Keegan stepped inside.

"Ah, I see those percs are doin ya okay."

"What? Ah...ah yeah man..."

Trailing off again. Stay awake. Motherfucker please stay awake.

"I've got something you might be interested in."

"What's that?" I asked pulling a blanket over the right side of my face.

"Ambien. Got em from Joe."

"Candyman Joe?" I asked


Ah, Joe. The steadiest hookup for pharmaceutical delights on campus.

"Uh... uh yeah okay. How much?"

"I'll let em go for a dimebag."

After (half ass) weighing the implications of such a thing. I pointed to my dresser. Keegan pinched off a chunk of my quarter piece. Filling my room with the sweet aroma of Mexican brick weed. He left 2 pills in my drawer and disappeared.  The buzz was starting to fade. I took another sip of vodka and collected my thoughts. Not quite sober enough for modal logic, I decided to browse through Facebook and see if Jace was up to anything.

"Wow," I mouthed to myself.

He was. A wife, a kid and a job at a lawyer's office. I looked deep into the faded tracks on my arm from past misadventures and decided not to send him a message.

Oh how time flies


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