: : / / the chirp heard around the universe \ \ : :
cricketsoda

 [+] cricketsoda home

I have learned in the weeks passed that there is nothing more loathsome and miserable than a junkie. I used to admire the creative sagacity of heroin addicts, and the apathy of coke fiends. I fucking loved the Red Hot Chili Peppers when they were wasted, and I could literally make a list of junkies who have bettered my life: Perry Farrell, Van Gogh, Andy Warhol, Brad Nowell, Janice Joplin, George Carlin… I’m bored with lists now, but you get the point I hope. Anyway, I swear to the hairs that soften my sack… I contemplate the most aberrant and macabre slaughtering of every fucking junkie that crosses my path now. I am a kind, and reasonable person. I really am. I do absolutely nothing to bother the equilibrium of this world, except perhaps the environment with my desire for mass amounts of herb.

But a junkie has fucked me.

And I am perturbed.

So a cue-ball in the window, there will be. Attached to the cue will be a quaint little note; simply stating “If you hadn’t locked yourself in your girlfriend’s apartment, the mag light that I busted your peephole with would have smashed your fucking skull you worthless, desperate bitch.”

I watch Requiem for a Dream, one of my all time favorite movies… and I spit on the television screen. When your life has become so fucking drab that you have nothing to fall back on aside from that rusting syringe that drifter left protruding from your mildew blemished couch… you need to give up. Or better yet, you need to find the dirtiest box cutter in the darkest cave in Afghanistan, and carve out your dead, black heart. I fucking hate you and hope you shovel shit in hell. Seriously… bitch.

My decree is simple: If you are a junkie, and you find your meaningless way into my life, I will finance your suicide. I will purchase with my own money the anti freeze and funnel, and I will personally render you unconscious. I will personally jam the fucking funnel down your coke-rotted throat and empty every drip of that intestinal eating death-aid into your amphetamine starved stomach. All you have to do is try fucking me again… but since you’re a junkie, that should come easy.

A junkie fucked me yesterday.

And I am perturbed.

[+] Leave comments

[+] leave comments and rate this article   [+] cricketsoda home