| a near life experience. | ||
 |
||
 |
||
Health Articles archives
Tuesday, August 08, 2006 seen your happy time get me another beer and it works out cos we both wanted one but i do feel bad cos why did i come and visit you in the second place as opposed to what was forbidden as i walk down the most amazing street with a cold air and comfort that we all spend that sunday perfectly and will forever strive to meet them again and make it just like it was - but it is out of our control - who our friends become and who our friends let down have little to do with who we are, but have everything to do with those sundays - and so i give thanks i walked down your street - nice and simple, and we can sit and just talk and laugh, and drink beers but not even think about them - thats not why we're here, and thats not why we're having fun - finally i told you about the time i was in las vegas, eating another dirty, dirty and cheap hotdog in the badlands of lives that were never even given a chance to reach the potential of beign wasted, these lives just need not be and it is no ones fault, it's just the reality of the badlands of vegas - so standing on these streets and that corner by the store, i eat my stomach filler and some girl on a bike and tracksuit and all messed up and wasted long blonde hair rides up to me and starts stressing out oh my god shit  oh my god he is going to kill me - i just stand and turn and look around and see that it didnt help, she is still stressing and freaking out - oh shit, he is going to kill me! - this girl had bought a pack of cirgarettes at this store i was standing and eating out the front of, and when she got on her bike and rode off, back to her charming boyfriend no doubt, she must have lost them going over those poetry gutters - she asked me if i had seen anything, and i apologised and said that i did not, which i had not, i was just eating my breakfast micro hotdog and preparing for the shit load of beers i was going to be drinking for the next 48 hours - she paced around looking at the footpaths and roads and gutters, like that kid next door playing cricket and running for the tennis ball and frantically searching for it in the front yard hedge all with those caged up sticks and blinding leaves, all the while his nasty old best friend keeps making runs, even though the ball is lost / he will make 12 runs off of what was a crap shot anyway - i feel sorry for the girl and her lost cigarettes, as i can imagine her arsewhole boyfriend sitting on the couch with his buddies and probably giving her shit behind her back to make himself the king of the couch and probably drinking her southern comfort as well - i offer her a cigarette from the packet i found in my sleeping jeans pocket from the night before, and she thanks me and smokes one with me - telling me that her boyfriend is going to kill her for loosing the cigarettes, and probably accuse her of stealing them or the money - i feel like bad - she may be gone and forever doomed from any pessimystal mind, but she meant well and was in fearthen it dawned on her that she will arrives home and her boyfriend will smell the cigarette that i gave her on her breath, and i just made everything a whole lot worse she stamped it out and quickly rode her bicycle home, still scanning the streets and gutters for that lost packet of cigarettes this was not a story, just something that happend and i wanted to tell you about it - i always mean well, at least try to - but sometimes the gutters take what they need and there is nothing we can do about it - try as we may, and we may as well. posted by Simon Tuesday, August 08, 2006 |
||
 |
||
 |
||
 |
||
 |
||