Stories tagged drugs

Grown Man Cries

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I was going to explain how it was all pre-planned, how we’d bought the boat for me to live on while she rediscovered herself in the slums of southeast Asia. How she needed to “do her own thing” for a bit, hang with the forsaken souls of the world, h

Body to go

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I’m squatting naked over the hand mirror, feet cold on the terrazzo floor, looking at my winking arsehole.

Opening Chapter from Mother's Beach

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He would be visible floating in the liquid nitrogen in the Plexiglas chamber, but the mechanisms for his maintenance would be silent. The building's electricity supplied power, but in the event of a power loss, an emergency generator would take over.

Unpacking Sentences

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This is what I do for a living: I unpack sentences.

Balconies

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In a few brief moments the entire sky became full of this wetness and greyed to the point of almost blackening, and it was a Sunday morning, and the man thought that thoughts were strange things, because he had a piercing epiphany that there was no God..

Dear Scarlet

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It’s me walking in on you shooting up in the diner’s cesspool of a shitter, and you trying to conceal the evidence while you’re telling me it’s straight up your first time.

Kleptomania

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Before we start you should know that I accept my role in all of this. I get it. It's no one else's fault that I died. I made my choices, from the stealing all the way to the end. I did that. And while it would be…

2011 - What I Wanted

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I might have gotten laid

Molecules

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Losing your virginity in a trailer park while on acid and with a recently deceased granny in the next room. Who hasn't been there?

1965, what I wanted - 2

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I knew all the horror stories about injecting drugs. I thought I would never do it. But I stopped thinking when Angel put her arms around me.

1965, what I wanted - 3

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Warning: there's sex near the end.

Solitary Lunatics Up On The Roof

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Up top, the sky is like a fist fight- fat lip purple and bitchslap pinks get wilder as the tabs kick in. Those hovering lights are aliens! we assert with insistent like-mindedness from where we sit directly beneath the airport flight path.

Unintended Consequences

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...you pile into your Mercury and barrel down the street, the air smells like sea, the night goes forever...

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs

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"Et in Arcadia ego"

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs (Ch 2)

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I began to emulate older kids that I hung out with to the point of being mimetic. The kids I admired themselves were MTV-engineered victims of emotional and cultural exploitation, impersonating their alternative rock idols much like I impersonated them.