GhettoMart
I have just discovered that Alice in Chains' demo album was titled "Heroin"
Heh.
Also, I found this waiting patiently on the computer screen for me to never finish:
***
I lose a piece of myself everyday. Most of
the time, the portions of my body that go more-or-
less missing in a given day are very small, like,
say, a few molecules, or even a cell. I've had bad
weeks, though. Some of my organs are completely gone.
There's some sort of crazy vortex (it happens more
often that you would think) that transmits my
physical self into a different dimension, or,
perhaps, a different area of the universe in this
dimension. I haven't really figured that part out,
though. I just know that gravity and light and all of
that shit are completely different where the lost
fragments of my person are re-appearing. That's why
everything is difficult in the here and now. I
actually lucked out, though. I've talked to some
folks that are fairly sure that they are being
transformed into oblivion, like, they're really being
destroyed. They always look so grim, you know? They
really know what's up and that they can't really do
shit about it. But, me, man, I know that it's working
out alright. You know, in the long run of things.
Right now kinda sucks, but the other dimension is a
place where one can exist. Like, it's so different, I
won't even be the same person. I'm just ready for it
to be over with. It might take a while, maybe a long
time, but I'm pretty sure that I'll survive in one
way or another. I have really good luck. Well, I
guess that I don't have, like, the best luck ever.
***
Yesterday, I put a few more holes in my ears. The lovely Amber at Standard Ink put up with my obsessive bullshit, once again, and did a great job, once again.
Today, I went to what I will now call the GhettoMart. GhettoMart takes place on Rossville Boulevard, in the random empty lots that speckle the side of the road, at seemingly random points in time. At GhettoMart, you can find everything from fishing poles to half-bicycles to stereos and used knives, complete with mystery goo on some of the blades. I traded a beaten gameboy cartridge (Tales of Phantasia) for a pair of headphones and a proper carrying sleeve for my wee little gameboy. I also bought a goo-less and semi-sharpened Frost pocketknife for two dollars, the old film version of War of the Worlds on VHS for one dollar, and a rightly-sized new pair of Carhart Jeans for ten. All of this was tax-free, of course, and the vendors hardly had a full set of teeth between all ten-or-so of them. God bless America.
Speaking of dental disasters, a tiny little chip came off of the backside of one of my bottom front teeth last night. I think that it was leftover damage from my tongue piercing. It isn't really noticeable, but I am very fucking angry about it: GOD-DAMNIT!! RAAAA!!
Heh.
Also, I found this waiting patiently on the computer screen for me to never finish:
***
I lose a piece of myself everyday. Most of
the time, the portions of my body that go more-or-
less missing in a given day are very small, like,
say, a few molecules, or even a cell. I've had bad
weeks, though. Some of my organs are completely gone.
There's some sort of crazy vortex (it happens more
often that you would think) that transmits my
physical self into a different dimension, or,
perhaps, a different area of the universe in this
dimension. I haven't really figured that part out,
though. I just know that gravity and light and all of
that shit are completely different where the lost
fragments of my person are re-appearing. That's why
everything is difficult in the here and now. I
actually lucked out, though. I've talked to some
folks that are fairly sure that they are being
transformed into oblivion, like, they're really being
destroyed. They always look so grim, you know? They
really know what's up and that they can't really do
shit about it. But, me, man, I know that it's working
out alright. You know, in the long run of things.
Right now kinda sucks, but the other dimension is a
place where one can exist. Like, it's so different, I
won't even be the same person. I'm just ready for it
to be over with. It might take a while, maybe a long
time, but I'm pretty sure that I'll survive in one
way or another. I have really good luck. Well, I
guess that I don't have, like, the best luck ever.
***
Yesterday, I put a few more holes in my ears. The lovely Amber at Standard Ink put up with my obsessive bullshit, once again, and did a great job, once again.
Today, I went to what I will now call the GhettoMart. GhettoMart takes place on Rossville Boulevard, in the random empty lots that speckle the side of the road, at seemingly random points in time. At GhettoMart, you can find everything from fishing poles to half-bicycles to stereos and used knives, complete with mystery goo on some of the blades. I traded a beaten gameboy cartridge (Tales of Phantasia) for a pair of headphones and a proper carrying sleeve for my wee little gameboy. I also bought a goo-less and semi-sharpened Frost pocketknife for two dollars, the old film version of War of the Worlds on VHS for one dollar, and a rightly-sized new pair of Carhart Jeans for ten. All of this was tax-free, of course, and the vendors hardly had a full set of teeth between all ten-or-so of them. God bless America.
Speaking of dental disasters, a tiny little chip came off of the backside of one of my bottom front teeth last night. I think that it was leftover damage from my tongue piercing. It isn't really noticeable, but I am very fucking angry about it: GOD-DAMNIT!! RAAAA!!