Friday, March 19, 2010

lit like a fucking kerosene torch and talking the coke-talk

I am just finally able to see a corner and not slam into it. I am just finally done puking through my nose. The poison has left my body, and I don't feel like poisoning it ever again.

But you know I will.

The moon seems neon-lit outside my window. The neighbor is having a party next door. Kesha is blasting on the stereo.

Last night I drank up and snorted lines and let some guy stick his tongue into my mouth, and pull my crotch up onto his. On the dance-floor, flashing and bleeding technicolor light all over my electric body. He whispered generic sexy come-ons into my ear. I was mostly interested in the sack of snow he said he had in his car.

I don't know how, but somehow I ended up in Malibu, lit like a fucking kerosene torch and talking the coke-talk on some veranda with some people I had nothing in common with. But we pretended to share our deepest secrets and most profound ideas. Drinking Maker's Mark and whatever was on hand as the sun rolled out of hibernation and the ink of the night sky faded into blue.

Then the drugs stopped working. They always do. I felt so alone and purposeless in this world. I felt as if nothing was ever going to change. That all the bullshit was just going to repeat itself endlessly.

And that's hell, my friends.

11 comments:

  1. very dramatically and beautifully written as always, Kim. i enjoy the way you described things. you're such a cool writer!

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  2. oh kim... the come down, sucks. you have a huge purpose... you bring joy to my life, i know that much. hopefully you will feel better tomorrow. love.

    xxx
    t

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  3. these photos are scarily cool!

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  4. that is my hell but it is not drug-induced and it is all the time, all the time, all the time. i used to have fun with drugs but not anymore because at the moment reality itself is too much to bear, let alone having to return to it in the dirty light before dawn.

    also? throwing up through your nose? i fucking HATE that. half my days all i smell is vomit.

    wait that was really gross. sorry.

    xx x

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  5. i knew that there would be someone who shared my views on the real world. i am relived . that self destructing suicidal girl made me smile. and just like everything else in this world it could be because this is hell . i really loved the way her day went. i could taste the corner she slammed into . and listen to those incoherent meaningless words whispered into her ears. you rock. :)

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  6. after much delay i just sent you the essay i promised. so check your spam if you don't get it.

    and you can email me back at that address if you wish. xx x

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  7. I know what you mean. After drinking, you always say that's it, and no more. Then it creeps back in. Repeat the process. Hmm...there must be a way to curb it, maybe one day.

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  8. It can get so old after a while. Those sleepless nights spewing garbage out of your mouth to people that aren't really even paying attention just because you think it sounds good. Makes my teeth grind just thinking about it.

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  9. Damn good post -- the brutal honesty is refreshing.

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  10. please, please, take good care of yourself...
    <3

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  11. Isn't that the truth. You can medicate to make the pain more bearable but you have to feel it eventually.

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You Rock. I am certain of it.