Oct 29, 2005 02:08
I didn’t feel like anything else.
I guess I got bored.
I got dressed for a walk one morning when it first started to get colder.
I had the bottle in one hand.
There were 30.
30 could last several months.
In the other hand, I counted out 4 and stopped.
4 is, to me, a deep heavy solid hit.
Maybe even 1/4 of one too many.
She looked at me as if she’d figured out who was finally sticking their hand in the cookie jar.
(She’d obviously found where their missing numbers were going.)
I stopped, I suppose out of the occupational respect I held for her.
She looked at me with so much behind those brazen, brown eyes.
They were bright.
They were clear, accusing, and brown.
I froze too.
Out of general surprise.
“Listen there’s things from my childhood that make a handful of these the very least he could do.”
I’d have liked to stared longer, and deeper into them and seen what sort of striking shit was behind them to make them so accusing, what sort of straight-laced honorable upbringing were behind them...but I didn’t. Because after all, I realized I just wanted my own satisfaction of justification and peace of mind...and said drugs...right and a long walk in the woods, without all the accusation of all the bullshit that was to come my way, due to my actions.
Even still, the very last thing I was to do was to deny them.
Regardless, at very worst, they were still my actions.
But fuck it, indeed under any of the known pretenses of the charged pretenses acknowledged, regarded by myself included them as a recreational superlative in terms of morale, health care, and to mince the mediocre moral debt that was implicated by my mere exienstance. Hell, my vulnerable age alone easily allowed me fair declarations of whatever I fuckin well wanted by any means of governmental medicinal acknowledgement or any shit that wants to fuckin cross my path.
I know whats up and I'm better left alone about it.
The principal question was of whether I should take it and enjoy it, or sell it.
It became a slight debate, take or sell.
& what 26 is left, is up to me.
Sure, forgive me for sitting back and watching things get easier.