Currently Listening To: The Menzingers: On The Impossible Past
"What the hell did I do wrong?", Gregory scribbled in his college ruled notebook. With much difficulty, Gregory sat up in his seat on the floor and reached for his glass of frothy IPA on the short table in front of him and took a healthy swig of the delicious micro-brew. As he set the glass down, Gregory wiped his brow which was crusted over with blood, scratched at his head, and tugged on his septum piercing, contemplating the events, which took place not two hours prior.
Last week, Gregory strolled into his favorite coffee shop, which he frequented everyday before work to grab a quick buzz. As he stood in the cue, Gregory noticed something quite different. It wasn't in the pastries, which were always fresh and lined up in the showcase ever so carefully, filling the small shop with a glorious essence. And it wasn't the smell of the coffee, hand-picked fair trade, freshly ground, and brewed to utter perfection. It was the help...
As Gregory drew near the register, he noticed the new girl working behind the counter, a lovely young lady with stunning features. Gregory was never taken aback with such delight. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way toward a total stranger. His and her eyes meet and Gregory's heart became a flutter. This was an unusual feeling for him, since the last time he let a female get under his skin he ended up a puddle on the floor. He hated to feel so vulnerable. Although he knew absolutely nothing about the girl, he sensed something special.
(WORK IN PROGRESS, SORRY!!!)
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Compared to a Snowflake...
Currently Listening To: Girlfight - Real Spite
Not special in anyway shape or form.
Does not fit-in with "normal" social circles.
Ideals not found in the next fix.
A lonely existence
Better than being counted among the living-dead
A river of crimson tears flowing through my veins.
I wish I could cry on the outside.
Not special in anyway shape or form.
Does not fit-in with "normal" social circles.
Ideals not found in the next fix.
A lonely existence
Better than being counted among the living-dead
A river of crimson tears flowing through my veins.
I wish I could cry on the outside.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Trust Funds & Coke Habits
Currently Listening To: Between The Buried And Me - The Parallax II: Future Sequence
12:32 PM, Thursday
"You are shamelessly self-involved, psychotic, and I'm afraid of you...", Catherine exclaimed to the blank stare of her boyfriend. "Not once in this ongoing two year 'RELATIONSHIP' have you ever made me feel special or loved!"
She's right. I barely like her or even feel drawn to her any longer. I don't actually know why she and I are still dating at this point.
Wait...yes I do. She is a glutton for punishment (she likes to get fucked in the ass) and I am probably the best thing to ever happen to the girl.
(Side note here, I really fucking hate it when people use air quotes to drive home a point. I get it, we get...your a fucking moron.)
I took a relaxed drag from my Parliament, which dangled at the end of my lip and settled comfortably in my chair, behind my $300 Paul Smith aviator sunglass, hidden. Catherine starred anxiously, waiting for me to give her some brilliant knowledge of the world. All I could think about at the moment was what I should wear to Homecoming.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Zac?!" I flicked the ash from my cigarette, exhaled deeply, and looked up to the sky. "Are we done here?", I asked. "Did you even hear a word I said?", Catherine said furiously. "I did, but I don't think it is the appropriate time to bring up at this point...", trying to change the subject as to not create an even more awkward moment in public. Her cheeks were turning fire red and she was about to open her mouth again, "Just let it go Cat, this is not the time." (Especially since I had been up for the last 36 hours, snorting cocaine off of her best friend's, Clara, tits and fucking the bejesus out of her.) "Fine." , Catherine said. "But you're taking me shopping for a new dress for Homecoming." She got up from the table, snatched her purse, and floated away to wait for the car at the valet station.
I took a long, easy drag from my cigarette and put the butt out in an unfinished burger. I exhaled the smoke from my lungs like the angry dragon I was, took out my Louis Vuitton wallet, and threw a hundred dollar bill in the unfinished meal and walked up to the valet station to wait for the Jag.
Cut to six hours later, I finally ditched Cat and successfully avoided another mindless conversation with the poor girl by purchasing her a new dress and matching shoes and clutch (all Prada by the way).
I wish she would just take the hint and leave me already because I don't have the heart to tell the girl that I can't stand her. But it makes sense why she sticks around: her dad left early in her life and she was a still a virgin the night we met. I gave her a strong vodka drink, a little blow, and I told her I loved her.
She was mine.
7:20 PM, Thursday
Snort!!
Catherine shoots her head up violently over a tiny mirror covered in white powder. "Goddamn! What is this stuff?!", she exclaimed while grabbing at her nose unsure of the powder she just sucked into her body.
Snort, Snort!
"It's coke, I think, Sniff! ...it's been cut. Fucking Zac!", Clara said angrily, her head lingering over the mirror after she finished her line, disappointed in the drugs in front of her.
"It will probably take the entire bag to feel something...Tell Zac he needs to get cleaner shit.", Clara said casually while rubbing her nose while simultaneously inhaling deeply as to try and clear her nose.
Snort!!
Clara whips her head back hard again, "He wont listen to me...he hardly pays me any attention as it is. I don't think he loves me any more... Snort!! but he did buy me a new dress for the homecoming.". "He's always buying you new shit all the time: Tiffany jewelry, designer purses, trips to Cancun...you're a lucky bitch. I wish Brad cared for me like that.".
Snort! Sniff, Sniff!
Catherine takes another line and thinks to herself about what her friend had just said. She looked down at the tiny mirror, licked her finger, slid the dainty well manicured digit across the glass picking up the cocaine residue, and rubbed her gums sensually while giving Clara a slutty look. Clara's face and chest were flushed. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, cheek, neck, and crept down between her breasts. Catherine's heart was racing, mostly from the drugs, but she wanted Clara. She wanted to taste her.
Catherine licked her finger again to pick up more of the residue and told Clara to come in close. Clara, pacing the room, moved toward Catherine thinking she was about to do another line. As she was putting her head down to ingest the drugs, Catherine put her hand on her shoulder, spun her around, looked lovingly into Clara's green eyes, and drew her in close and kissed her softly on the lips. As she pulled back after the intimate encounter, Clara said, "What are you doing?", slightly confused. Catherine raised the finger with the cocaine residue to Clara's lips and said, "Shhh...", and slowly slid the finger into Clara's mouth. Confused and horny, Clara puckered her lips and began sucking at the supple digit and caressed her chest.
Clara was getting wet and was breathing heavily. Catherine pulled her finger back and looked at her friend. "Have you ever done this before?", Clara gasped. "Never, but you just looked so pretty. I don't know what came over me, sorry.", Catherine said bashfully. "You don't have to be sorry, Cat...I liked it.".
12:32 PM, Thursday
"You are shamelessly self-involved, psychotic, and I'm afraid of you...", Catherine exclaimed to the blank stare of her boyfriend. "Not once in this ongoing two year 'RELATIONSHIP' have you ever made me feel special or loved!"
She's right. I barely like her or even feel drawn to her any longer. I don't actually know why she and I are still dating at this point.
Wait...yes I do. She is a glutton for punishment (she likes to get fucked in the ass) and I am probably the best thing to ever happen to the girl.
(Side note here, I really fucking hate it when people use air quotes to drive home a point. I get it, we get...your a fucking moron.)
I took a relaxed drag from my Parliament, which dangled at the end of my lip and settled comfortably in my chair, behind my $300 Paul Smith aviator sunglass, hidden. Catherine starred anxiously, waiting for me to give her some brilliant knowledge of the world. All I could think about at the moment was what I should wear to Homecoming.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Zac?!" I flicked the ash from my cigarette, exhaled deeply, and looked up to the sky. "Are we done here?", I asked. "Did you even hear a word I said?", Catherine said furiously. "I did, but I don't think it is the appropriate time to bring up at this point...", trying to change the subject as to not create an even more awkward moment in public. Her cheeks were turning fire red and she was about to open her mouth again, "Just let it go Cat, this is not the time." (Especially since I had been up for the last 36 hours, snorting cocaine off of her best friend's, Clara, tits and fucking the bejesus out of her.) "Fine." , Catherine said. "But you're taking me shopping for a new dress for Homecoming." She got up from the table, snatched her purse, and floated away to wait for the car at the valet station.
I took a long, easy drag from my cigarette and put the butt out in an unfinished burger. I exhaled the smoke from my lungs like the angry dragon I was, took out my Louis Vuitton wallet, and threw a hundred dollar bill in the unfinished meal and walked up to the valet station to wait for the Jag.
Cut to six hours later, I finally ditched Cat and successfully avoided another mindless conversation with the poor girl by purchasing her a new dress and matching shoes and clutch (all Prada by the way).
I wish she would just take the hint and leave me already because I don't have the heart to tell the girl that I can't stand her. But it makes sense why she sticks around: her dad left early in her life and she was a still a virgin the night we met. I gave her a strong vodka drink, a little blow, and I told her I loved her.
She was mine.
7:20 PM, Thursday
Snort!!
Catherine shoots her head up violently over a tiny mirror covered in white powder. "Goddamn! What is this stuff?!", she exclaimed while grabbing at her nose unsure of the powder she just sucked into her body.
Snort, Snort!
"It's coke, I think, Sniff! ...it's been cut. Fucking Zac!", Clara said angrily, her head lingering over the mirror after she finished her line, disappointed in the drugs in front of her.
"It will probably take the entire bag to feel something...Tell Zac he needs to get cleaner shit.", Clara said casually while rubbing her nose while simultaneously inhaling deeply as to try and clear her nose.
Snort!!
Clara whips her head back hard again, "He wont listen to me...he hardly pays me any attention as it is. I don't think he loves me any more... Snort!! but he did buy me a new dress for the homecoming.". "He's always buying you new shit all the time: Tiffany jewelry, designer purses, trips to Cancun...you're a lucky bitch. I wish Brad cared for me like that.".
Snort! Sniff, Sniff!
Catherine takes another line and thinks to herself about what her friend had just said. She looked down at the tiny mirror, licked her finger, slid the dainty well manicured digit across the glass picking up the cocaine residue, and rubbed her gums sensually while giving Clara a slutty look. Clara's face and chest were flushed. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, cheek, neck, and crept down between her breasts. Catherine's heart was racing, mostly from the drugs, but she wanted Clara. She wanted to taste her.
Catherine licked her finger again to pick up more of the residue and told Clara to come in close. Clara, pacing the room, moved toward Catherine thinking she was about to do another line. As she was putting her head down to ingest the drugs, Catherine put her hand on her shoulder, spun her around, looked lovingly into Clara's green eyes, and drew her in close and kissed her softly on the lips. As she pulled back after the intimate encounter, Clara said, "What are you doing?", slightly confused. Catherine raised the finger with the cocaine residue to Clara's lips and said, "Shhh...", and slowly slid the finger into Clara's mouth. Confused and horny, Clara puckered her lips and began sucking at the supple digit and caressed her chest.
Clara was getting wet and was breathing heavily. Catherine pulled her finger back and looked at her friend. "Have you ever done this before?", Clara gasped. "Never, but you just looked so pretty. I don't know what came over me, sorry.", Catherine said bashfully. "You don't have to be sorry, Cat...I liked it.".
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Poetry
Currently Listening To: Stick To Your Guns - Diamond
This was written late Monday night...
"Final Fight" 7.23.12
Whiskey induced psychotic halucinations
Spread like cancer.
Blinded by the lullaby in her eyes
And washed away in the undertow.
Waiting a lifetime for an answer
Until crimson flows furiously from her wrists.
"Red Wine Success!" 7.23.12
Doing all that I can
To keep my hands off
My neck
And in a much safer place,
Like that of a wine glass...
This was written late Monday night...
"Final Fight" 7.23.12
Whiskey induced psychotic halucinations
Spread like cancer.
Blinded by the lullaby in her eyes
And washed away in the undertow.
Waiting a lifetime for an answer
Until crimson flows furiously from her wrists.
"Red Wine Success!" 7.23.12
Doing all that I can
To keep my hands off
My neck
And in a much safer place,
Like that of a wine glass...
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
This Is My Version of a Sappy Love Letter...
Currently Listening To: Hot Water Music - Exister
This is a letter to the friend I really never knew...
Hello Whoever You Are,
I don't know whether or not you will be shocked when you read this, but I feel like you need to hear some things that I have been thinking about lately. I used to like being in your company. We would laugh, sing, and make fools out of ourselves and the booze would flow without hesitation, but now it has turned into something quite toxic. I feel as if we were never even that close to begin with. Do you know where I can from? Do you really know my past? Easy answer: NO. You never thought to ask. We might as well be strangers. That pretty girl I saw in the back of the bar might as well have been a delusion because you never trusted me enough to really let me know anything about you. The way you treat me as if I am just another face in the crowd. This is what it feels like to be a ghost. All those lost hours doing nothing important with our time...wasted. It's fun to pretend that we will live forever, but that frightens the shit out of me because I know our time is limited and I am doing what I can now so I do not regret anything when the reaper comes. I really cannot stand all the fakeness you made me endure. I thought we were growing something, but it fell far to short of my expectations. Maybe that was my fault though. I should have never had expectations to begin with. I hope your happy without me. I hope you enjoy every fucking moment, because one day you are going to wake up and say to yourself, "What have I done with my life beside make sure my wine glass was always full?" I wont be there tomorrow. I am moving...moving on from mediocrity. It hurts my soul to let you go, but I must because I cannot be coaxed back into that life. I have been down that road and all it left me with was heavy fines from the state government and a family that is untrusting.
This is a letter to the friend I really never knew...
Hello Whoever You Are,
I don't know whether or not you will be shocked when you read this, but I feel like you need to hear some things that I have been thinking about lately. I used to like being in your company. We would laugh, sing, and make fools out of ourselves and the booze would flow without hesitation, but now it has turned into something quite toxic. I feel as if we were never even that close to begin with. Do you know where I can from? Do you really know my past? Easy answer: NO. You never thought to ask. We might as well be strangers. That pretty girl I saw in the back of the bar might as well have been a delusion because you never trusted me enough to really let me know anything about you. The way you treat me as if I am just another face in the crowd. This is what it feels like to be a ghost. All those lost hours doing nothing important with our time...wasted. It's fun to pretend that we will live forever, but that frightens the shit out of me because I know our time is limited and I am doing what I can now so I do not regret anything when the reaper comes. I really cannot stand all the fakeness you made me endure. I thought we were growing something, but it fell far to short of my expectations. Maybe that was my fault though. I should have never had expectations to begin with. I hope your happy without me. I hope you enjoy every fucking moment, because one day you are going to wake up and say to yourself, "What have I done with my life beside make sure my wine glass was always full?" I wont be there tomorrow. I am moving...moving on from mediocrity. It hurts my soul to let you go, but I must because I cannot be coaxed back into that life. I have been down that road and all it left me with was heavy fines from the state government and a family that is untrusting.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
What We Left Behind
Currently Listening To: Alkaline Trio: Damnesia
It has been many a moon since the last time I thought about updating this ghost town. Lots of things are changing very fast in my life and I am looking forward to this coming fall. If you did not know, I spent the last month and a half working/traveling on the Vans Warped Tour for a skateboard company owned by my friend Brian. I had the opportunity to work alongside some of the friendliest and genuinely awesome people. I could not have been more blessed. Thank you all for being who you are. I hope your lives are fruitful.
*A little note about the following poem: I wrote this short piece over a couple of boring hours during the show in Atlanta, GA, August 1, 2011. It was a very warm, sticky day. At one point my booth was trapped by three different "signing" lines. I was a little miffed (to put it lightly). The piece is concise and conveys the feeling of working on this kind of tour.
This poem is dedicated to all my "Cinderblock" hommies...sorry I neglected to make you all a copy. I love and miss you all dearly!
"What Do You Mean I Cannot Walk This Way, I Have an 'All Access' Pass: My Summer on the 2011 Vans Warped Tour"
Long, humid days and redundant questions are my constant bother.
Mindless sheep walk in droves looking for nothing but a free fix,
While carnies litter the alleys hocking fake thrills
With the promise of "satisfaction guaranteed".
I can only pray that I will wake up from this 54 day long nightmare.
It has been many a moon since the last time I thought about updating this ghost town. Lots of things are changing very fast in my life and I am looking forward to this coming fall. If you did not know, I spent the last month and a half working/traveling on the Vans Warped Tour for a skateboard company owned by my friend Brian. I had the opportunity to work alongside some of the friendliest and genuinely awesome people. I could not have been more blessed. Thank you all for being who you are. I hope your lives are fruitful.
*A little note about the following poem: I wrote this short piece over a couple of boring hours during the show in Atlanta, GA, August 1, 2011. It was a very warm, sticky day. At one point my booth was trapped by three different "signing" lines. I was a little miffed (to put it lightly). The piece is concise and conveys the feeling of working on this kind of tour.
This poem is dedicated to all my "Cinderblock" hommies...sorry I neglected to make you all a copy. I love and miss you all dearly!
"What Do You Mean I Cannot Walk This Way, I Have an 'All Access' Pass: My Summer on the 2011 Vans Warped Tour"
Long, humid days and redundant questions are my constant bother.
Mindless sheep walk in droves looking for nothing but a free fix,
While carnies litter the alleys hocking fake thrills
With the promise of "satisfaction guaranteed".
I can only pray that I will wake up from this 54 day long nightmare.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Ignorance is Not Bliss...
Currently Listening To: Defeater - Empty Days & Sleepless Nights
Notre Dame de Namur University is a very "interesting" institution to attend. Most young people who enroll there as a Freshman are fairly ignorant and end up in terrible, often dangerous situations because of their lack of life experiences. With that said, I would like to introduce you to a girl named Penelope.
I was first introduced to Penelope Brimhall (originally from Redmond, WA) in Dr. Maxwell's "Intro to the Old Testament" class. She was a sweet girl, modest, natural beautiful, and she always smelled like strawberries. Because she was so innocent and charming, she was also every young mans fantasy. Unfortunately, Penelope was not an easy girl to sway. She attended parties hosted by various university sports teams, but she generally did not get wasted (I have only seen her drink Smirnoff Ice, but never more than two). She always kept her wits about her and never got drunk.
Even though Penelope had a good head on her shoulders and always made the right decisions, she felt like she was missing out on all the "fun" people were having around her. She secretly wanted to be the center of attention, but she (like most women her age) was scared of being judged negatively. She knew that if she drank she would loosen up a bit, but was not into losing all her inhibition. Penelope liked to be in control, so the thought of her being drunk and "black-out" really scared her.
One Friday night, while hanging with a couple of girlfriends in the common area of a New Hall dorm, Penelope overheard Tiffany and Lauren talking about scoring an "8-ball" of cocaine. Penelope had never done a drug in her life (she wouldn't even take a Tylenol for a headache), but she was sick of always being labeled as a "goody two-shoes" and "innocent", so when Tiffany and Lauren went into the bathroom together, Penelope followed.
The girls were a little shaken when Penelope expressed interest in throwing down for the drugs. Being the terrible people they are, Tiff and Lo agreed that Penelope could hang out with them that evening. They realized that Pen would probably only do a line or two and would be so yakked out that she wouldn't want to do more than that. After getting all the money together (roughly $120) Tiffany went to pick up the sack from her dealer a couple of cities down the 101S.
Within 30 minutes Tiffany had returned. She said nothing as she entered the common room, but tapped Lauren on the shoulder and slunk off into her dorm room, shortly followed by the two other ladies. After the door shut Tiffany whipped out a bag which contained several large white rocks of the "booger sugar". As Tiff was opening the baggie to do some of the drugs she was talking a mile a minute. It was rather noticeable that she was already "on one" and ready to for another. Penelope stood behind the other girls, watching them very carefully. Their movements were methodical. Tiffany pulled out a tiny mirror and placed a fairly big rock on it a crushed it with tow of her parents credit cards. As she was "lining the girls up", Lauren was rolling up a $50 bill. She handed the rolled bill to Tiffany who was clearing her nostrils so the coke wouldn't get clumped up in her nasal passage. She inserted the bill in her left nostril, put her head down, and snorted deep. She lifted her head almost immediately to make sure she got a nice, long drip and said softly, "Goddamn this shit is pure!" She took the rest of her half a line in the other nostril and handed the bill off to Lo after checking her nose for residue. Just as Tiffany had done, Lauren followed suit.
Penelope was nervous, she felt sick to her stomach. As the girls were doing their lines Penelope was questioning whether or not she should be doing something so irresponsible. She could hear her mothers voice in her head, but before she could talk herself out of it, Penelope was handed the $50 to roll up to take the plunge. She looked at the bill and then at the girls, who were not sniffling and whose eyes where becoming glazed over and dilated. Penelope wanted this to be something she wanted to remember so before taking her line she went on the laptop in front of her to find her "coke song". She decided on "Rich" by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's, a fitting song for this very moment. As the song played she rolled the bill very carefully, cleared her nostrils like the others two before her, inserted the bill in her left nostril, and lowered her head over the tiny mirror. She closed her eyes and snorted hard and lifted her head almost immediately and coughed. Tiffany and Lauren instructed her not to spit and keep her head back in order to get a good drip. Penelope made a sour sort of face, probably because she was not ready for the awkward taste of the drugs. She felt her palms starting to get sweaty and her heart rate increased and her face was a little flush. Penelope looked at her "friends" first with a look of disbelief and then a stupid half smile. "Do you want to do another line?", asked Penelope. Tiff looked over at Lauren and they gave each other a reasurring look and said, "Fuck yea we are gonna do another!" The girls had a long night ahead of them...
3am...
Penelope is pacing in the common area of Tiffany and Laura's dorm, still really feeling the drugs coursing through her veins, never knowing what it feels like come down from hard drugs. Her head felt as if it were being spit open by a hatchet, heart beating at the speed of a quarter horse, skin pale and clammy. Penelope wanted more drugs. She now had a taste for the yummy white powder, but her "partners in crime" were now nowhere to be found. Tiffany had bolted from the room a little over an hour ago looking for her regular late night fuck and Lauren felt sick and decided to go for a leisurely walk around campus in an attempt to feel better. Penelope was left to suffer the comedown alone. Her thoughts we scattered and she was no doubt in a paranoid state, but one thing her mind could focus on for more than five seconds was finding more of this wonderful drug.
Always,
Maddog
Notre Dame de Namur University is a very "interesting" institution to attend. Most young people who enroll there as a Freshman are fairly ignorant and end up in terrible, often dangerous situations because of their lack of life experiences. With that said, I would like to introduce you to a girl named Penelope.
I was first introduced to Penelope Brimhall (originally from Redmond, WA) in Dr. Maxwell's "Intro to the Old Testament" class. She was a sweet girl, modest, natural beautiful, and she always smelled like strawberries. Because she was so innocent and charming, she was also every young mans fantasy. Unfortunately, Penelope was not an easy girl to sway. She attended parties hosted by various university sports teams, but she generally did not get wasted (I have only seen her drink Smirnoff Ice, but never more than two). She always kept her wits about her and never got drunk.
Even though Penelope had a good head on her shoulders and always made the right decisions, she felt like she was missing out on all the "fun" people were having around her. She secretly wanted to be the center of attention, but she (like most women her age) was scared of being judged negatively. She knew that if she drank she would loosen up a bit, but was not into losing all her inhibition. Penelope liked to be in control, so the thought of her being drunk and "black-out" really scared her.
One Friday night, while hanging with a couple of girlfriends in the common area of a New Hall dorm, Penelope overheard Tiffany and Lauren talking about scoring an "8-ball" of cocaine. Penelope had never done a drug in her life (she wouldn't even take a Tylenol for a headache), but she was sick of always being labeled as a "goody two-shoes" and "innocent", so when Tiffany and Lauren went into the bathroom together, Penelope followed.
The girls were a little shaken when Penelope expressed interest in throwing down for the drugs. Being the terrible people they are, Tiff and Lo agreed that Penelope could hang out with them that evening. They realized that Pen would probably only do a line or two and would be so yakked out that she wouldn't want to do more than that. After getting all the money together (roughly $120) Tiffany went to pick up the sack from her dealer a couple of cities down the 101S.
Within 30 minutes Tiffany had returned. She said nothing as she entered the common room, but tapped Lauren on the shoulder and slunk off into her dorm room, shortly followed by the two other ladies. After the door shut Tiffany whipped out a bag which contained several large white rocks of the "booger sugar". As Tiff was opening the baggie to do some of the drugs she was talking a mile a minute. It was rather noticeable that she was already "on one" and ready to for another. Penelope stood behind the other girls, watching them very carefully. Their movements were methodical. Tiffany pulled out a tiny mirror and placed a fairly big rock on it a crushed it with tow of her parents credit cards. As she was "lining the girls up", Lauren was rolling up a $50 bill. She handed the rolled bill to Tiffany who was clearing her nostrils so the coke wouldn't get clumped up in her nasal passage. She inserted the bill in her left nostril, put her head down, and snorted deep. She lifted her head almost immediately to make sure she got a nice, long drip and said softly, "Goddamn this shit is pure!" She took the rest of her half a line in the other nostril and handed the bill off to Lo after checking her nose for residue. Just as Tiffany had done, Lauren followed suit.
Penelope was nervous, she felt sick to her stomach. As the girls were doing their lines Penelope was questioning whether or not she should be doing something so irresponsible. She could hear her mothers voice in her head, but before she could talk herself out of it, Penelope was handed the $50 to roll up to take the plunge. She looked at the bill and then at the girls, who were not sniffling and whose eyes where becoming glazed over and dilated. Penelope wanted this to be something she wanted to remember so before taking her line she went on the laptop in front of her to find her "coke song". She decided on "Rich" by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's, a fitting song for this very moment. As the song played she rolled the bill very carefully, cleared her nostrils like the others two before her, inserted the bill in her left nostril, and lowered her head over the tiny mirror. She closed her eyes and snorted hard and lifted her head almost immediately and coughed. Tiffany and Lauren instructed her not to spit and keep her head back in order to get a good drip. Penelope made a sour sort of face, probably because she was not ready for the awkward taste of the drugs. She felt her palms starting to get sweaty and her heart rate increased and her face was a little flush. Penelope looked at her "friends" first with a look of disbelief and then a stupid half smile. "Do you want to do another line?", asked Penelope. Tiff looked over at Lauren and they gave each other a reasurring look and said, "Fuck yea we are gonna do another!" The girls had a long night ahead of them...
3am...
Penelope is pacing in the common area of Tiffany and Laura's dorm, still really feeling the drugs coursing through her veins, never knowing what it feels like come down from hard drugs. Her head felt as if it were being spit open by a hatchet, heart beating at the speed of a quarter horse, skin pale and clammy. Penelope wanted more drugs. She now had a taste for the yummy white powder, but her "partners in crime" were now nowhere to be found. Tiffany had bolted from the room a little over an hour ago looking for her regular late night fuck and Lauren felt sick and decided to go for a leisurely walk around campus in an attempt to feel better. Penelope was left to suffer the comedown alone. Her thoughts we scattered and she was no doubt in a paranoid state, but one thing her mind could focus on for more than five seconds was finding more of this wonderful drug.
Always,
Maddog
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