"Bullshit, Mohammed, you never have anything good."
"Naw dude, this shit is legit. One guy I sold it to told me he felt like he was flying. Actually flying! Come on man, you know that sounds tight."
"Dammit Mohammed, why do you always do this to me? If this isn't good, I'm coming to find you and getting my money back."
"Well, that's not gonna happen. How much you want?"
"Enough."
"Alright, here," he said as he passed me a dime bag full of pills, "this is plenty. You can even pay me later."
"Straight," I mumbled before I grabbed the pills from him and furiously shoved them down my throat. I promised my mom I would stop doing this type of shit when she died. But she really didn't understand. She was always worried that I was going to end up dead on the side of the road somewhere, just from popping pills. She didn't know how it is these days, no one dies from smoking weed either. It's just some harmless recreation. She always told me I was so much smarter and more talented than all the other kids I was hanging out with, maybe she was right. And one day, I'll stop. I'll do it for her. I'm just not quite there yet. Just as warm memories of those mornings on the porch flooded me, I came out of my head and back to the dirty barstool I was sitting on.
I was surrounded by familiar faces in the crowded bar, yet I was completely alone. Damn, when did I get so dramatic? Is it these pills? That should be me playing up there, not that chump named Pink. What boy is named Pink, anyway? God, it was so unfair. I don't even know what I did to make the band mad at me, but it was complete bullshit. Well, I guess Johnny had a right to be pissed about me sleeping with Rose. But they broke up like a month ago. And the rest of the band didn't have to gang up on me like that. Maybe I should just apologize so I can play with them again. That's all I want. I didn't even think I liked music that much until they decided to get all serious and leave me high and dry. Yeah, I guess I should apologize.
I didn't feel like I was flying yet. In fact, I didn't feel anything. Mohammed is worthless, he can't even sell me good drugs this one time. I should beat his ass. I looked around for that little druggie but he was gone. He wasn't worth it anyway. Maybe it was time for me to just go back to my empty apartment. Shit, I've got to snap out of whatever this is.
My walk home was somewhat pleasant, except for the fact that I was alone with my unpleasant thoughts. All I could think about lately was those test results I got back from the clinic. I'd been trying so hard to avoid it but I couldn't avoid it forever. I have HPV and it's my fault for not being careful enough. I just had no idea that real people in America got that shit. What the fuck. Oh my god WHAT THE FUCK. I have HPV?! I didn't even really know what that was until two weeks ago when I got those test results back. OHHHH MYYYY GOOOODDDDD. And my somewhat pleasant walk home turned into a sprint. This was real, and ignoring it won't make it go away. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
"Naw dude, this shit is legit. One guy I sold it to told me he felt like he was flying. Actually flying! Come on man, you know that sounds tight."
"Dammit Mohammed, why do you always do this to me? If this isn't good, I'm coming to find you and getting my money back."
"Well, that's not gonna happen. How much you want?"
"Enough."
"Alright, here," he said as he passed me a dime bag full of pills, "this is plenty. You can even pay me later."
"Straight," I mumbled before I grabbed the pills from him and furiously shoved them down my throat. I promised my mom I would stop doing this type of shit when she died. But she really didn't understand. She was always worried that I was going to end up dead on the side of the road somewhere, just from popping pills. She didn't know how it is these days, no one dies from smoking weed either. It's just some harmless recreation. She always told me I was so much smarter and more talented than all the other kids I was hanging out with, maybe she was right. And one day, I'll stop. I'll do it for her. I'm just not quite there yet. Just as warm memories of those mornings on the porch flooded me, I came out of my head and back to the dirty barstool I was sitting on.
I was surrounded by familiar faces in the crowded bar, yet I was completely alone. Damn, when did I get so dramatic? Is it these pills? That should be me playing up there, not that chump named Pink. What boy is named Pink, anyway? God, it was so unfair. I don't even know what I did to make the band mad at me, but it was complete bullshit. Well, I guess Johnny had a right to be pissed about me sleeping with Rose. But they broke up like a month ago. And the rest of the band didn't have to gang up on me like that. Maybe I should just apologize so I can play with them again. That's all I want. I didn't even think I liked music that much until they decided to get all serious and leave me high and dry. Yeah, I guess I should apologize.
I didn't feel like I was flying yet. In fact, I didn't feel anything. Mohammed is worthless, he can't even sell me good drugs this one time. I should beat his ass. I looked around for that little druggie but he was gone. He wasn't worth it anyway. Maybe it was time for me to just go back to my empty apartment. Shit, I've got to snap out of whatever this is.
My walk home was somewhat pleasant, except for the fact that I was alone with my unpleasant thoughts. All I could think about lately was those test results I got back from the clinic. I'd been trying so hard to avoid it but I couldn't avoid it forever. I have HPV and it's my fault for not being careful enough. I just had no idea that real people in America got that shit. What the fuck. Oh my god WHAT THE FUCK. I have HPV?! I didn't even really know what that was until two weeks ago when I got those test results back. OHHHH MYYYY GOOOODDDDD. And my somewhat pleasant walk home turned into a sprint. This was real, and ignoring it won't make it go away. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
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