f.u.c.k.f.u.c.k.f.u.c.k

[winterophelia]

Another night without sleep in a gutter. On far too much meth-taintedkoolaid for it to matter. Passed time alone, whittling a new leg out of broken chair and cataloging my open lesions, scabs and infections.

I miss toilet paper, even single ply.

I miss simpler days in the before times. Before my pimp Gannon knocked all my teeth out.

This morning/midevening that bitch Emily was trying to steal my corner. When I went to get it back, she shanked me a few times with a punjistake, covered in her own excrement.

As I laid bleeding on the sidewalk, that armless legless bastard Ward cruised by on his ghetto hover-round. He is jealous of the prosthetic arms and legs I fashion out of broken furniture. So once more, he ran me over. And reversed back over. Then forward again. Then reverse. He repeated this six or seven times. He replaced the tires with tank treads covered in poisoned tacks a long time ago. Heard something resembling a cackle. If I wasn't pinned down and if he still had vocal cords I could probably hear his laughter better. The jew won't want to let me lick his crack-pipe clean or pay me my usual seventy-five cents for the rough recreational abuse of what little remains of my body.

Then the triplets showed up and whined about how my bleeding distressed them. With food so scarce, I don't understand how the triplets stay so fat. Everywhere I turn there they are. If I could afford broken glass I would cut them all.

Couldn't hook so I watched vultures eat the corpse of a bearded weirdo. Skinny blood covered naked kid snapped vulture's neck, but took weirdo's corpse instead. Probably for deviant sexual practices. The lack of necrophilia laws really hurts business. If I had an immune system, I probably would've crawled over to the vulture meat. The triplets swarmed it instead. Worst nature documentary.

I miss having eyelids.

Comments

[eeleene.livejournal.com]

sry.