.
The Life I Never Lived

Woke up. It's 2:30pm and I'm naked. I look around for my underwear...or was I wearing underwear? These days it's too much hassle to wash clothes. I sit up. Bad idea...the world begins speeding like a possessed merry-go-round and immediately lay back down. I flail my arms to the side and finally touch something that feels like fabric. I slide my jeans on while laying down which is much more difficult than it sounds. I reach in my pocket and find my last super mario and lay it gently in my mouth. I hear footsteps enter the room.
"Hey man."
The voice is hollow in my ears. "Hey," I drawl.
"Would you mind getting off of my living room floor? You clash with the decor."
I look around and see a beanbag, a cardboard box with a black and white tv on top...rabbit ears bent out of shape, and a brown rug that I'm sure used to be white.
"Riiiiiight."
"Hey man, remember...you owe me $300."
That gets me up. "For what!?"
He just points to what I'm using as my pillow. I unfold the wad of clothing and see a green suede Diesel jacket which would be cool if it wasn't for the huge "D" painted across the back.
"That's not mine."
"Not yours my ass...you begged me for the cash until I was ready to kill you just to get you to shut up."
"Fine fine fine...I don't have it. Ask me after I've had breakfast."
I stumble to my feet and head into the kitchen. I look back and see Jamie and give him my most pathetic pleading look.
"Last time man...I swear."
He just rolls his eyes and walks away. I get out a metal tin from the cupboard as I slide my belt out of it's loops with one hand. A friend who -let's just say- happened to know the strippers tricks of the trade taught me this. The belt tightens, powder in the spoon, water in the powder, lighter under the spoon, mixture into the hypo crusted brown with who knows who's blood, a slap or two on the arm and breakfast is served.

I'm walking downtown in what I think is a girl's white undershirt, but it's all I could find. Oh, and my three-hundred frickin dollar jacket. I'm carrying a can of white paint with the lid loose. I stroll into a Fry's Electronics and head towards the portable stereo equipment. Funny how nobody stops you from walking in a store with a can of paint. The lid goes under my jacket -getting white crap all over it in the process- and I walk past the high end walkmans. In a swift motion I grab them without stopping, without even looking at them, and drop them into the can of paint. I can only fit three inside because of the plastic cases. On goes the lid and out of the store I go. The plastic cases keep the paint from seeping onto the walkmans and the lead in the paint keeps the stores sensors from picking up the merchandise. Suddenly I'm $300 richer. But seriously...like that's going towards this stupid jacket. Maybe I can return it saying it had paint on it.

I walk up to a movie theatre and act like I have to throw up...all over the ticket taker. They let me run towards the bathroom, no problem. Once inside I take a breather. I wipe the powder off my nose, pop a few vicodin, and head towards the nearest screening of a movie...any movie...it doesn't matter.

Plan for tonight? Club: trance. Alcohol: lots. MDMA: 4. Girls: If I can get it up.

I love my life.
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