syd
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2005
- Messages
- 273
12:37 PM
It takes you twelve minutes to get back to your girlfriend’s apartment
Without removing your heavy winter coat you get started
Four shots of the dark and brown (Kentucky’s finest of course) chased with a couple beers
40mgs of Oxycodone
A joint
One very lengthy lethal line of blow (got to keep those creative juices a flowing…or at least your head up.)
Not much in the way of nutrition, but it gets you through your afternoons.
1:56 PM
The OC there to keep the sick off, never feeling quite up to the spike at the ungodly hour of two in the afternoon
The drinks to keep your hands steady
The powder just to help keep your eyes open
The joint just for an alteration in a strictly balanced diet of booze, coke, and opiates After a couple more slugs on the whiskey you load a full rig (just in case right?) and you make your way back to a temp job you’ve managed to hold onto for a few shaky weeks.
2:23 PM
Telling (or more aptly slurring) to coworkers with breath that could start Westward fires that your burger was very slow in getting there
And your waitress was a cunt
And you’re really sorry you’re late again.
They don’t say shit in order to get away from your awkwardness.
3:45 PM
Managing only the bare minimum requirement of adult work you spend the afternoon thinking the things that thinly veiled fragile minds like yours ponders at such times
How lucky do you have to be for your love to outrace your life?
How you’d like your life to be more about doing good instead of just not doing anything horrible
How distance has no way of forcing love understandable
Shit like that.
Imagining yourself original
Or at least plagiarizing the thoughts of the few no one cars to discern
4:23 PM
Your mind consumed with the hit you readied and bored with the internet and work you’re not even going to fuck with, you jump up like jack and fix in your car.
Telling yourself you’ll only shoot half you load on too much too fast and you know it.
Tummy burst coming on too strong.
Greedy junkie bear raises his ugly head as you sink your own.
Chin hitting chest you know you fucked up again
Broken another paper thin regulation you’ve set for yourself
Too much for work a day week
No needles at work
No smack
Tiny burst of strength against an irresistible nod you crush your lit cigarette in your hand and hold in the pain while you weave your way back to your cube.
5:02 PM
A sympathetic worker bee nudges you out of your nod.
“You’re snoring dude” he says.
“Davey saw you too. Probably gonna call your PO.”
You shrug at the grogginess and desperation of yourself.
“Beer o’clock though. Can you make it or do you need a ride to the bar?”
“Right as the mill” you reply flashing a careless grin
Who the fuck knows what happened after that?
It takes you twelve minutes to get back to your girlfriend’s apartment
Without removing your heavy winter coat you get started
Four shots of the dark and brown (Kentucky’s finest of course) chased with a couple beers
40mgs of Oxycodone
A joint
One very lengthy lethal line of blow (got to keep those creative juices a flowing…or at least your head up.)
Not much in the way of nutrition, but it gets you through your afternoons.
1:56 PM
The OC there to keep the sick off, never feeling quite up to the spike at the ungodly hour of two in the afternoon
The drinks to keep your hands steady
The powder just to help keep your eyes open
The joint just for an alteration in a strictly balanced diet of booze, coke, and opiates After a couple more slugs on the whiskey you load a full rig (just in case right?) and you make your way back to a temp job you’ve managed to hold onto for a few shaky weeks.
2:23 PM
Telling (or more aptly slurring) to coworkers with breath that could start Westward fires that your burger was very slow in getting there
And your waitress was a cunt
And you’re really sorry you’re late again.
They don’t say shit in order to get away from your awkwardness.
3:45 PM
Managing only the bare minimum requirement of adult work you spend the afternoon thinking the things that thinly veiled fragile minds like yours ponders at such times
How lucky do you have to be for your love to outrace your life?
How you’d like your life to be more about doing good instead of just not doing anything horrible
How distance has no way of forcing love understandable
Shit like that.
Imagining yourself original
Or at least plagiarizing the thoughts of the few no one cars to discern
4:23 PM
Your mind consumed with the hit you readied and bored with the internet and work you’re not even going to fuck with, you jump up like jack and fix in your car.
Telling yourself you’ll only shoot half you load on too much too fast and you know it.
Tummy burst coming on too strong.
Greedy junkie bear raises his ugly head as you sink your own.
Chin hitting chest you know you fucked up again
Broken another paper thin regulation you’ve set for yourself
Too much for work a day week
No needles at work
No smack
Tiny burst of strength against an irresistible nod you crush your lit cigarette in your hand and hold in the pain while you weave your way back to your cube.
5:02 PM
A sympathetic worker bee nudges you out of your nod.
“You’re snoring dude” he says.
“Davey saw you too. Probably gonna call your PO.”
You shrug at the grogginess and desperation of yourself.
“Beer o’clock though. Can you make it or do you need a ride to the bar?”
“Right as the mill” you reply flashing a careless grin
Who the fuck knows what happened after that?
