SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK…. one from the archives

Posted: June 13, 2010 in Short Stories
Tags: , , , , , , ,
Anyways my world is opening up to all kinds of strange and beautiful possibilities. BUT that’s not what we are here to discuss today. It’s time to sail through the gutter and down into the sewers of despair. A time not too long ago.
It’s early morning. But that doesn’t matter I haven’t slept in four maybe five days. Sleep is for the weak. I don’t even wear a watch. I’m not a slave to time. I dwell in an amphetamine dream. It’s full of cellophane people I can see straight through. My head is full of static. I fear the subliminal corporate media greed machine is stalking me.
I open my desk draw and remove the case which contains my implements of soul destruction. One hundred unit BD ultra fine insulin syringe, An eight ball of glass, and a bent table spoon. I open the small Mylar bag and dump more than a little bit into the spoon. Dip the needle into a glass of water, and suck forty units of water into my soul killing cannon. Then spray it on top  of the shards. I watch in awe an anticipation as the shards melt into the water. The anticipation is eating me alive. I feel my skin crawling, my demon screaming in my head to hurry the fuck up! Sssssssssssh little demon it’ll be in soon. I suck the liquid into my weapon. My veins are on fire with yearning. But they’re large and plump. No need to even tie off. I have veins a junkie would die for. Ironic I think. I press the needle into the fattest one. Draw the plunger back and watch my blood mix with the drug in a crimson blossom. Then I pump the death into my arm.
The initial blast is orgasmic. A strong vapor fills my mouth I taste the high. I’ve just kissed euphoria on the lips in a millisecond. It’s enough to freeze me in place for a few moments. The demon is quiet in my head now. How long can I go on?  How long before I kiss death full on the mouth? Will I even feel it’s icy tongue dancing in my mouth as I slip into infinity?  These are the questions filling my head everyday.
Fuck the world! You won’t make it to thirty. The odds are against you. Die young Ed leave a beautiful corpse.. Life is shit anyways. The drugs do you, you don’t do the drugs! The demon whispers in my ear, day in and day out. Be like Jane just kick tomorrow.
How many tomorrows came before I finally quit? Too many to count. That I know for certain. I battled the devil until neither of us could stand. Then I got up an walked away. Broken, battered, bruised, and my psyche shattered into a million fragments. BUT I walked away! I won a war of insurmountable odds. I beat the beast on it’s own turf. I still look back over my shoulder. I watch for the devil following my every step. Just waiting for the time, when I’m weak and tired. Then the devil will come for me. I’m aware of this fact. That’s why as I journey forward I read the signs on the way down the path of destruction. They once had been scrawled all over the walls plain as day, but I could not read the subtle language they had been written in. Now I see and read every sign around me without even looking. I know them like I know my face in the mirror staring back into my eyes. I shall never wander too far down that path again. For now I can read the signs that litter the way.
The demons still whisper in my ears. But now that I am no longer blind, they’re harder to hear. I can block them out. Now that I can see the future. I see it live in a million pixel plasma screen before my eyes. Clear as day, but I remember the past. So dark and bleak, that the future burns too bright to turn back. Like a moth to a flame I’m drawn to it. The memories of the past are tattooed on my soul. They make me who I am. But I strive for a perfect tomorrow. It’s coming quicker than I ever imagined. Now I’m times slave, and sleep is still for the week. All seven days of it.
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