Heroin Post-Heroin

[helpingout]

Here’s a story I’m fond of

VALUABLE
Second Draft


Every timeline and story spins off of each choice we make. More universes than conceivable exist where you have lived every opportunity and choice that came your way. These choices were your own and belonged to no one.

I have been wondering how I will lose my eye. Cleaning a gas station bathroom, I changed the hand towels. I stood up from the stoop and saw the corner of the hand towel dispenser coming straight for my iris. The foul dinged metal corner poking into my retina and removing this part of the world from my perception. But the amphetamines saved me. With my reaction speed enhanced, in this universe, my universe, I did not pierce my eye. I felt a piece of my soul spinning off into a future where I had lost my eye. I felt that part of me leaving me but not taking anything from me. As my reflection took each step backward I felt my soul splitting like mitosis, pulling away from me like some special gravity of the soul. I stood up and turned to the mirror to see if my eye was damaged. My body swelled with excitement. This was it. I had lost my eye. I am become god. I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection and I understood that the me I saw had blood in his eye. His left eye was pierced and bleeding down his cheek. I reached up and touched my selfsame cheek and i looked at my finger. There was no blood on my finger. Then, he, the me with the pierced eye, took two steps back, opened the door, and disappeared from my world forever. I felt his soul depart from my own.
I stared into the mirror dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe what i had seen but I saw it without doubt. I peered into the mirror and as I reached out to touch it, to see if it was real, at that exact moment, “BAM” and the door flung open. Jackie said,
“Where the fuck have you beeeen? You’ve been in here for forever. Did you change the toilet paper yet?”
“I was writing a story!!”
“Boy, you better change that fucking paper, sitting in here, acting like a child. You best get off that phone for I snatch it out your hands. You’re like a child, I swear to god, you know how busy I been while you been sitting in here.”
“ I was writing.”
She continued,
“What child writes in the bathroom at his job???”
And I thought,
“It has happened, but it did not happen to me.”
And I said,
“I’ll start working.”
And when she left,
I finished writing the story.
I was only doing my job.

 

[emkee_reinvented]

Here’s a poem for you
I’m deciding on a story

A poem for you
You’ve always wanted to hear a really good poem
Some thing that shakes you to your core.
Words in which you find yourself.
Messages in which you find meaning.
But I don’t have a good poem for you.
I don’t have a poem at all.
I have a window.
A little look inside a place that doesn’t exist.
A vision of a thing that can’t be seen.
I’m inviting you to look through my window.
It’s a bit of witch craft really.
Some spell palavering over an open mic crowd.
Whispering into your ears.
Painting the picture for you.
And when you close your eyes.
And you look through my window.
You’ll see it.
It will be there.
You’ll look through my window and you’ll see the image of exactly what you need to do.
My window will always be there for you.
Helping you to see things which you alone can see.
Things you have never seen before in the way that they appear to you now.
My little window informs you.
What do you see?
How do you feel about what you see?
Can you perfectly encapsulate what you saw into a little moving image?
Keep your eyes closed.
Look over there.
There’s a river on a flat plane.
It stretches out and out and out. Towards a setting sun.
The sun sets the river water ablaze and it looks like a shining reflection of the sky.
The river is large and lazy.
There are leaves floating down the river.

Take the image you saw through the window and put it on a leaf that has stopped at a bank on the river just a few feet away.
Walk over to it.
Take the image of what you saw through the window. The little moving picture of it.
Set it on that leaf we just saw.
Good.
Now push that leaf back into the current.

See we had the thought. It made us feel how we felt. And that’s what the thought was.
Now it’s just a thought on a leaf on the currents of a lazy river. Flowing out towards the sun.

You’ve been given a window into a part of you that looks without judgement. It doesn’t share these thoughts. It doesn’t tell anyone what they saw in their window because no one needs to know. Unless you tell them. This window is there for you always. Outside of what you see in the window. There is a vast land that belongs to you. There is a winding river stretching out towards the ever setting sun. And waving grasses sweep out from that sun as if blown by solar wind in the same direction the light shines.
Build there.
Build a castle, a farmhouse, a cottage, or a place which might have only existed in your dreams.
Make it labyrinthine to confuse your enemies.

Defend it viciously.
You are its protector, its lord, its god, and its creator.

I gave you a window.
Everything outside of it is yours.
It is a place.
It belongs to you.
A place about a window.

You just made a song/ track/ rap. It s genius. Freestyle ?

It got 'diepte', i know my window. It only don t work while reading.
Otherwise we d be synchronised, it made me smile.
Went OK with 2-PAC on the background rapping.

But would i record it and do a playback, ego-soluting.
Wonder which brain are i d end and the things passing,
my window. Which is actually beyond aware me.

 

[emkee_reinvented]

Im like a slave to the part of me which wants to see me destroyed.

After a post of ... after reading some of Schopenhauer,
and followed by the track blinded. Quite psychological

I was confronted, self-hate is hard to beat. My most direct problem atm.

 

[helpingout]

Here’s another story I’m fond of. It’s called;

Hot Pot
Joo-Wong liked to work. He worked late every day. His boss always left early saying “Oh, Don’t worry about it, whatever doesn’t get done during the day, Joo-Wong will get to during the night.” During the night, Joo-Wong would work and work. His girlfriend Jae-Woo would stay late as well. Everyone knew they were dating. No one knew that during the night they both became different.

At night, Jae-Woo’s head would shrink away, it would compress into her neck and her torso would compress into her breasts. Her butt, hips, thighs, and legs would fatten and plump. She looked voluptuous in this night time transformation, but where her head and neck had been, two little snail’s eyes would peak up. When she got like this she would go see Joo-Wong. Joo-Wong hated to see her like this. He thought she looked grotesque. But he could not hold back his appetite for her allure. Nor was he strong enough to resist the spells she had him under. She would first drain him. Letting him pump into her. Then she would turn to him, her little proboscis of a snails mouth peeking up from between her antennae eyes and she would milk him until she too was full. It was a strange kind of love.

When she was fed and fattened she would go to sleep and Joo-Wong would return to his work. The computers bright glare reflecting spread sheets off of his glasses in the darkness of the office. Everyone knew that Joo-Wong and Jae-Woo were having an affair but no one knew that they only had each other. That there was no one they went home to. That they were both in love.

One evening the boss said that he had a business meeting. The client was going to come here to the office. They were going to order in some hot-pot. Jae-Woo looked to Joo-Wong. They had planned for this. They knew what to do.
“I will make the preparations sir!” Joo-Wong said standing.
“Nonsense, we’re not going to prepare it ourselves. You’re the best, most knowledgeable employee I have , Joo-Wong! I’m going to need you to impress the client and make sure that we seal the deal. This is over 100 million dollars we’re talking about. With your 2.5 % commission you could make twenty years worth of work in one night. This is an opportunity I could only ever entrust to you. Anyone else at this company would take that paycheck and leave. You’re the only person I know here who would seal the deal and still be on time the next morning. That’s it. Can I count on you Joo-Wong.”

“Of course sir.”

That night, before the hot-pot arrived, Jae-Woo walked about the office with her nylons perfectly fitted, the seam running up the center of her long legs. She took the fuel gel cake and placed it in the lamp. She set the hot-pot atop and she poured in the freshly delivered food, from the best restaurant in Seoul. She turned to Joo-Wong.
“They’re going to love you.” She said.
Joo-Wong said nothing.
The meeting went well. Joo-Wong secured the account for 250,000,000 usd with a handshake as Jae-Woo walked about the table bending over shoulders offering perfumed congratulations and good views to every man at the table. Joo-Wong had done his part. He could tell Jae-Woo was happy with him because she was doing hers. She walked past him and rubbed his shoulders affectionately. They both knew that they would finally be okay. That they would always be together. That poverty could now never separate them. They would have a home. There would be food and happiness. Perhaps children. Jae-Woo bent over Joo-Wongs shoulder and showed off her assets to the other men at the table. She would do her part later having agreed to go out for drinks with these fellows as is custom. The checks had been signed. Jae-Woo left with the gentlemen.
Joo-Wong used his right leg to rub his left foot, but laughed to himself, forgetting that his left foot is what had sealed the deal. Joo-Wong had filled up on Joo-Wong. There was nothing there but a bloody stump. The So-ju had clouded his mind. It was past close. His feet and legs had transformed into those of a common dog. Jae-Woo had done the work of cutting off his lucky foot. She had prepared the meat for the hot-pot. Done the magic to be sure that their business partners would agree to their terms. It was so easy to forget because she had used her slugs spit to anesthetize the wound. It clouded the mind and with the strong So-Ju liquor his reason, also, was clouded.
The hot pot had been delicious. The So-Ju had been strong. Jae-Woo had been charming. It was their first night apart in many years. Joo-Wong knew that tomorrow it would all be worth it. As soon as he got the money in his account, his boss would be proven wrong. He and Jae-Woo would be long gone. Having taken the money and run.
Joo-Wong didn’t worry much about his new business partners. The checks were signed. He knew what Jae-Woo was doing. She would seduce them. Kiss them with her anaesthetic slime. The business men would fall into the same dream that Joo-Wong had every night. Jae-Woo would be there. A delicious sexy-looking slug woman who fed upon them as if they ran with milk. But unlike him, the business men would not turn into dogs during this night. They would wake up in the morning from a strange and uncomfortable dream, but unlike Joo-Wong, who tomorrow would still confront the reality that he now had only one foot, and six and a half million dollars to share with the slug he loved, these men would never believe the dream they had woken up from nor the poverty they awoke to.

 

[helpingout]

If you’re liking these I can post many many more.

 

[helpingout]

Feel free to tell me your thoughts on these. I know my writing style is very straight forward. The stories are what they are. But I’d love to hear thoughts

 

[helpingout]

Love
I have loved you since before we met.
But I do not know how we relate.
I do not know how to relate to you.
is that you with the chestnut hair?
Or is it a deeper red?
Is your hair black?
Could it be black?
I guess it could
Are you in my bed now?
Is that you?
I love you
The one in my bed
The one without my bed
The one to come
The one who is coming
I have thought it was you every time
I believed it was you every time
And now I have you
And I can’t believe it’s you
Because I cannot have you
You are someone else’s
Your life is too expensive
Your going to leave me one day because I know that though our love is pure our time is bound.
Kicking and screaming time will take you elsewhere and I will be left behind
Great times
Terrible food
I love you
I think it is you
Like I have thought of all the others
Like I have believed of all the others
I do not feel even sorrow
I’m just happy that I got to know you
On and on and on and on
The hearts beat goes on and on
And like the steps of my feet as I go walking off
I’ll track blood to show you where I went
I might be fine
But my heart will break
And it will bleed on me
You’ll always know who I am and what I’ve been through
And you’ll always be somewhere else
So is that you in the future
Or is this all there is


Poem Valuable

 

[helpingout]

Dream
Short story
Valuable
1-17-22
I am riding my bike through the city in my dreams. The city of Los Angeles. I am slipping through the cars and I see the two kids one black and one Hispanic whom I ride bikes with. I pass them and I am riding alone through the city once more. I want to meet up with Penelope. I think that she has to take the bus to see me so I leave the city and I ride the street that leads to the beach bus so that Penelope can link up with me. On the way I get lost and end up in a mountain town. There is a lake and a forest. I am hiking my bike through this forest and I come upon a man who is doing magic by hopping among the trees and using a pinch between his right thumb and forefinger he fells the trees. Perhaps he uses an ax. Then he perched atop the stumps and he jumps to the next tree. I say to him,
“These trees have fallen in a pattern. They are an homage. What are they in homage to?”
He tells me,
“Each of these trees is a tablet of Vicodin I swallowed once. Every stroke of my axe is marked in this the valley of trees. Nary a tree here was carved down by me and Nary a tree was cut down. I look around this man’s field and I see that in the center of this valley is a cruel meadow carved out from the carpet of trees. I can see that the meadow is bordered by a wall of trees that this man cut down.”
“Why did you start cutting these trees down.” I ask.
“You didn’t ask me what the trees were.”
“Are they not trees.”
“Didn’t I tell you they were Vicodins.”
And it was only then that I saw how hard it must have been to cut what must have been a place of peace and repose down.
“Why did you cut it down”
“There was a threat of wildfire and I did not think having the forest was worth losing my home. “
He motioned to the little log cabin in the center.
“Stop in for a spot of tee and I’ll tell you how I built this cabin.”
“Stop in for a spot of tea?”
“Yup.”
So I stopped in and he told me what the trees were and how when he first started cutting them his hands were blistered raw by the work. But now he can cut them down just with a glance. With the space between his thumb and forefinger he makes another one vanish.”
“It was hard at first but now it’s easy as pie.”
Then, he served pie and it was good.
I said,
“Who are you?”
He laughed,
Do you not know your own genetic identity when it stares back at you?
I looked at myself.