As A Third.

As a Third.

You’re tired, Ju. I’ll give you that. But, relax. You’ve been worse. Remember the eight? Even the ten? Remember RM60 on a M.C. for a slight case of diarrhea? Blood pressure shooting through the roof? Nineteen years old with the blood pressure of a fifty year old man. That’s what he said, remember? The geezer behind the desk. Reading you through charts before even asking your name. Shocked and bewildered when he realized you were only nineteen. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Neither could you.

Nissan.

“How much did you pay him to do it”, the cunt asked. Twitching as it sensed its own presence. Conceited bastard.

Nissan and TCM.

Those sordid, unimaginative, irresponsible fucks. Couldn’t decide between hash codes of #000000 or #000003. Idiots.

Uh oh. The twitch is back. Not the one under your left eye. Not the right inner ear vibration. The one near your right eye. Right next to your temple. Yes, that one. The weird one. Feels like a muscle twitch. Oh, and the veins in your skull, firmly pressed against the left-back side, feels like they’re clogging. Reaching up to the pinnacle of your dented dome, but, never really going anywhere.

Left ear starting to have a slight piercing feeling. Like there’s a very large, very blunt needle pressing against the beating drum so softly you can barely feel it. But, it’s there.

Exhaustion. Feels like something that you’ve done before. Hands off the keyboard, my friend. Your stumpy, ugly fingernailed fingers shouldn’t be typing. Index and middle of the left limb, softly pressed against the right limb’s soft spot just below the wrist on the inside.

Beat.
Was that it?
Beat.
No, there it is.
Beat.
Beat
Beat.
Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.
Yes, there they are.

Uncontrollable they seem. Quick as well. Pumping furiously to almost no avail. Seems useless in this context. Weary now, your eyelids are heavy. The song repeats again. Bass, bass, kick, snare. Sub-bass, snare, kick. You know the drill; it’s on its third loop now. You can feel it on the soles of your feet. Maybe that was the beat you felt earlier.

No, what you felt was the real beat, wasn’t it? It’s your blue-red life juice. Shifting with every reptilian brain impulse. Another synapse shoots crooked splinters. Pump, pump, pump. It’s keeping you awake.

You’re tired, Ju. I’ll give you that.

You’ve survived worse. Don’t think back too much, though. Your brain is brooding too fast now. Unnecessary issues are coming in to the blurred view of the ever seeing, unblinking eye. Ironic, it too is a third. Hm, you think, almost missed that one.

Chug, chug, chug. Blurred. Straining whites soon to bleed red. Sharper than a butcher’s knife, they say.
They who?
They. The ones who say.
Say? They? Satay?
Figuratively.
Asshole.
Ever the charmer, aren’t you.
Indeed.

Waiting to hear that familiar tone? Which one was it again? Ah, yes! That one! You do like that one, don’t you?
Question, why are you such a prick?
You haven’t figured it out yet?
See what I mean? Prick.
Aha. I see, now, what you mean. Are you implying that you yourself aren’t one?
I am. But, not like you. Never like you.
You are what you seek. Think about it.
I don’t understand. What is it-
What you seek is what you are, and what you are is what should change.
The fuck do I-
Seek? Pussy, Herr Julian.
You really are a-
Prick?
Stop interrupting me.

Grin. Ear to ear.

Who is that?
Hmmm.

Ah, yes.

You’re tired, Ju. I’ll give you that.

But, you’ve been worse.

Forty-two sends his regards by the way.
I don’t think he said ‘regards’.
He is yours to keep, you know?
I am his to leave.
Nice turn with that. Opaque, yet, intriguing.
Big words, huh? A losing battle?
I laugh at your idea-
Prick.
… You don’t stop do you?
I’ve said it before. Some people don’t like to hear it.
The famous one?
Yeah. The one they don’t like.
That one is in rather bad taste.
Sure as hell sounds cool, though, don’t it?
You are right about that.
Tell forty-two this : I’ll sleep -
When -
I’m –
Dead |Dead.

You’re really not that pleasant when you’re like this. The twitch is back again.
I noticed.
Why don’t you rest your eyes, friend?
Why don’t you shut the fu –
You never miss your shots. Always on cue!
I come prepared.

…

You’re tired, Ju. I’ll give you that. Goodnight, dear friend. Until our next chat, I bid you adieu.
You’re not French, asshole.
You’re not Italian.
Good call.
Good night.
Don’t come back, okay?
I never misplaced my keys.
Door’s closed, fuck off.
See you soon.
As a third. As always.
As always.

Leather, leather, pumpkin feather.
Something’s carried beneath the weather.
Foul stench, it plagues so far,
Underneath these shining stars.


Get off my porch! I ain’t got no more quarters, asshole!

~love yourself~ | ~flesruoy evol~





Hello there, Julian. It’s been a while. Forty-two sends his love.
I don’t think he said ‘love’.
Did you miss me?
Ah, shit. No sleep for the wicked it seems.
Indeed.