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Bluelighter
Junk is a cellular equation that teaches the user facts of general validity -W.B.
The grandfather lazily swayed to the beat of nature on his worn-in rocking chair. The one with the woven leather seat that fit 'Oh just right', the arms of the chairs marked with slashes that denoted various significant events with the hope by somehow vandalizing the chair in deliberate lines would help to trigger the many memories that are cataloged in his brain. Memory retrieval 'ain't like it used to be...?
Stretched out before him lay the beauty of the White Mountains in the peak of the autumn foliage change. Pure relaxation at its finest.
Its at moments like this when his body can enter a state where instant recall of anything is possible. It usually manifests itself in movie version of his dreams from days, months, years. Random dream images so crisply seeded that it seems the event is so fresh it has not even been accomplished yet. At other times strange mathematical formulas get handwritten into his cranium, not big on science or math he has yet to full transcribe his mental mathbook with the foreword by 'The Hall of Records'.
this fine afternoon his thoughts flow out of his forehead with a vengeance. Picture a stampede of wild horses speeeding off into the distance, behind they leave a cloud of swirling dust. On the edges of the dust clouds where the smoke is less dense and starts shade to white. Spinning out of the dust...
raining test-tubes
hailing narcotics
thundering chops of the razor
lighting torches
Corrupt
The long arm of the poppy dripping in pleasure
The teenage addict squirming in insanity. Drowning in a puddle of sweat.
Demoralized and torn to shreds, her morals went out the window when her habit came busting thru the front door. I feel sorry watching her from above twisting in what seems like agony. She is left with her pain..
[wide-shot of busy inner-city street, speed zoomed to the front facade of a neon-glitzy 'We Buy Gold, Top Dolla' pawnshop]
Jimmies heart is pounding out of his chest as he carries in his brothers PS2 game station, and a low grade DVD player. He is so desperate for a fix if they wont buy this shit it might get ugly. The Arab standing behind the 2-inch thick bullet proof glass see's the desperation in Jimmys eyes and even more so in his tracked and bruised arms. 50 dollars and Jimmy already feels better.
Feed the fever...
beg, borrow, cheat, lie, steal, demoralize, dehumanize and puke...
Its time for him to feed the beast...
The trust fund is capped by his father. No more 2 gram-a-day habits.
Dirty, homeless, and 15, spun out in a dead end alley Ethan is barely conscious as the dope starts to take effect. Plunging his body into a wrap of pure crystal clear opiated bliss. Showing its true strength as the morning light creeps onto his blue tined body. Which has no effect on the pigeons as they continue picking on what ever they pick at.
Shoulda' never left home, broken home, broken body. Coulda' Woulda'
'random Images:'
raining multicolored pills
dementa
Suzie-Q skipping down the sidewalk with a nose fulla ketamine
glass syringes that morph into 1/4 gram bottles of powdered dilaudid
some parent with her head buried in a Bible sobbing uncontrollably
a nice set of juicy thighs
The crisp starched white jacket is imbrodered with a small red cross, the smell of antiseptic fills the room. Her pupils are pinwheels and her skirt is short. She raises the syringe up right and taps it to remove the air bubbles. A slight push of the plunger releases a transparent crystal clear drop of liquid
As the drop shoots out of the tip the constant quality of motion begins to warp and all focus is drawn to the single bead of liquid. Reflected in the droplet is a micro recreation of my current setting.
Inject, divided, zipped up backwards, and WHAT IS THIS SHIT MORPHHHHINE...
The imaginary dust kicked up by the White horses is thinning and ol' grandpa is slipping back into his body. His body is creaking and his bones are jonesing for a taste of some good old' narcotica.
spinning, spiraling, syringes... OUT OF CONTROL
The grandfather lazily swayed to the beat of nature on his worn-in rocking chair. The one with the woven leather seat that fit 'Oh just right', the arms of the chairs marked with slashes that denoted various significant events with the hope by somehow vandalizing the chair in deliberate lines would help to trigger the many memories that are cataloged in his brain. Memory retrieval 'ain't like it used to be...?
Stretched out before him lay the beauty of the White Mountains in the peak of the autumn foliage change. Pure relaxation at its finest.
Its at moments like this when his body can enter a state where instant recall of anything is possible. It usually manifests itself in movie version of his dreams from days, months, years. Random dream images so crisply seeded that it seems the event is so fresh it has not even been accomplished yet. At other times strange mathematical formulas get handwritten into his cranium, not big on science or math he has yet to full transcribe his mental mathbook with the foreword by 'The Hall of Records'.
this fine afternoon his thoughts flow out of his forehead with a vengeance. Picture a stampede of wild horses speeeding off into the distance, behind they leave a cloud of swirling dust. On the edges of the dust clouds where the smoke is less dense and starts shade to white. Spinning out of the dust...
raining test-tubes
hailing narcotics
thundering chops of the razor
lighting torches
Corrupt
The long arm of the poppy dripping in pleasure
The teenage addict squirming in insanity. Drowning in a puddle of sweat.
Demoralized and torn to shreds, her morals went out the window when her habit came busting thru the front door. I feel sorry watching her from above twisting in what seems like agony. She is left with her pain..
[wide-shot of busy inner-city street, speed zoomed to the front facade of a neon-glitzy 'We Buy Gold, Top Dolla' pawnshop]
Jimmies heart is pounding out of his chest as he carries in his brothers PS2 game station, and a low grade DVD player. He is so desperate for a fix if they wont buy this shit it might get ugly. The Arab standing behind the 2-inch thick bullet proof glass see's the desperation in Jimmys eyes and even more so in his tracked and bruised arms. 50 dollars and Jimmy already feels better.
Feed the fever...
beg, borrow, cheat, lie, steal, demoralize, dehumanize and puke...
Its time for him to feed the beast...
The trust fund is capped by his father. No more 2 gram-a-day habits.
Dirty, homeless, and 15, spun out in a dead end alley Ethan is barely conscious as the dope starts to take effect. Plunging his body into a wrap of pure crystal clear opiated bliss. Showing its true strength as the morning light creeps onto his blue tined body. Which has no effect on the pigeons as they continue picking on what ever they pick at.
Shoulda' never left home, broken home, broken body. Coulda' Woulda'
'random Images:'
raining multicolored pills
dementa
Suzie-Q skipping down the sidewalk with a nose fulla ketamine
glass syringes that morph into 1/4 gram bottles of powdered dilaudid
some parent with her head buried in a Bible sobbing uncontrollably
a nice set of juicy thighs
The crisp starched white jacket is imbrodered with a small red cross, the smell of antiseptic fills the room. Her pupils are pinwheels and her skirt is short. She raises the syringe up right and taps it to remove the air bubbles. A slight push of the plunger releases a transparent crystal clear drop of liquid
As the drop shoots out of the tip the constant quality of motion begins to warp and all focus is drawn to the single bead of liquid. Reflected in the droplet is a micro recreation of my current setting.
Inject, divided, zipped up backwards, and WHAT IS THIS SHIT MORPHHHHINE...
The imaginary dust kicked up by the White horses is thinning and ol' grandpa is slipping back into his body. His body is creaking and his bones are jonesing for a taste of some good old' narcotica.
spinning, spiraling, syringes... OUT OF CONTROL
