euphorbia
caustic milk - hybrid
Registered: Apr 2001
Location:
Posts: 16671 |
who?
after business - out for beer. Theresa and I go to club 565.
so we dance a little, play a little pool get approached by a few...one guy - black tanktop, gold chain...friend had "sinus issues"
you wanna play pool?
ok.
looking around, yeah I see you fuckers. I've seen you mother fuckers.
tank top, gold chain guy: "Ah, so you know my friend alex?"
no, i dont know a motherfucker in here.
none of you mother fuckers.
you know why?
I like the way, like for instance...after a game of pool when you shake each others hands you look far off, as if remembering and and pulling from out side of the moment the history of this "friend".
weighty...a bit bitter, untrusting and synthetic.
no, I dont know none of you mother fuckers.
i dont want to know you.
he says he owes me?
no, he dont owe me shit, i dont fucking know him.
right in the eyes, see me mother fucker.
alex who?
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Im drunk forgive me, but anyone who has ever been in side, then stepped out might understand. I swear its like watching something youve seen played out over and over again with sarcastic redundancy. I remeber how people used to think you were so cool, used to be drawn to you as if you were something special because you were inside of that bubble...its nothing to envy...most everyone there is fair pathetic and untrusting and sometimes untrustworthy especially if they use their own stash. dont get me wrong, some of them are cool but not many. none of them mother fuckers there tonight were with their shirts unbuttoned, their ball caps backwards and thier greasy gold chains.
not that I knew any of them.
not a mother fucking one.
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taste the fucking rainbow

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