The hotel room runs out in the morning. I will pack my limited things into her car and probably proceed to some sort of detoxification center where I will be legally drugged and then torturously weened ( Read more... )

valves pump. The ones that are left. They suck the structure from my face. Calling me to dance ( Read more... )

"I love you ( Read more... )

leave it to yours truly to come out of a 3 month jail stint with a drug problem. Who me?
no I was thinking of someone else. My cyborg muslim twin r2-fahib-kamal

"Don't call me an artist. I'm not an artist."
"Sorry, then what are you?"
"I'm a loser, I just happen to write."

Sadness came Darkly, elegantly strolling like a gothic beauty queen. Her sharpened teeth glistening through dark moist lips. I expected her; almost invited her. I reached out, pulled her to me, embraced her; my faithful sadness ( Read more... )

"Push the needle in,
Face death's sickly grin
Holes are in your skin,
Caused by deadly pin
Head starts spinning 'round
You fall down to the ground
Feel your body heave
Death's hands start to weave"

Black Sabbath
Hand of Doom (1971)

(there will be a chapter or story here. Probably wont get it started until later tonight)

Why do I continue to press on? Why does my heart continue to beat and my blood continue to flow through these annihilated veins ( Read more... )

I just wanted to let everyone know that I am near the end ( Read more... )

JasonMy friend Jason. The man who showed me how to shoot up correctly. A 6'4" hulk of a man. Kind and gentle as is common of men too big to fear anything. His brother Justin was an all-american wide receiver at Stanford and played for the NFL for four different teams. Buffalo, Philadelphia, Denver, and Baltimore. He never put up exceptional numbers ( Read more... )