Hardcore selftrolling (contains massive drugs)
(NINJA EDIT: had that before, so reap posteriors..)

One sunday morning, in the almost empty first train home. Coming down from a night of relentless debauchery and dodgy footwork. Me fading in and out of the surroundings, between the body dozing off and the mind still bouncing around in its feral state. Voices behind me catch my ear and i casually listen in. They sound rough and creaky, must be fellow punters of Big Mother Night and the Seductions. They discuss some bloke that spent the night with them, taking the piss and exaggerating. But not actually laughing, instead getting into subtle reasoning of how he came to this, compairing blunders he had, deducting.

We all have at one time or the other known one or another phenotype of that guy they introduced to me. He who tries to hard. Wonky grasp upon the concept of his culture, the more eager to shove his half truths in everyones face. The sense of humour that never fails to distress and confuse. Whose social deficiency are clearly visible to all but himself. But also eager to please with free drinks, and certain source for massive ripping of piss as the gurning helpless idiot he turns himself into. And no matter what kind of evil prank you play on him, he will be back, like the inbred puppy he is.

Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night, methinks, as i am amazed at the surgical cold these well-versed youth compete with. Well, what can be done, at least the poor sod wouldn't know. Then the world zooms back into focus in warp speed, as i hear my name mentioned. And sure enough, these people commence to take apart things that have happened to me. Most of which were buried in the cesspit of you-know-what, if not never been aware from an objective outlook. And now my little missteps and what they must imply were related to me and judgement passed.

Fists are clenched, teeth ground, and desperately i scour my bleached-out greasy thinkbox for who might be able to get all this trivia together. These people must have taken some kind of obscene interest in collecting this, through years and subcultures. Which is not too hard, small town, the part that matters. But mostly, they must have been there for all that detail. Those thrice-damned Stasi rotters, how could they, none of this is true, well, maybe is, i surely had reasons, ah, these false pigs, to fuck me over like that, screw you, IT IS GO TIME!

With this, the adrenaline lifts me off the seat and i grumble and creak down the carriage. There, the backs of their heads a few seats further down. Will i try to set stuff straight? Use my razor sharp wits to humiliatre their behaviour . Will i donkey punch the arrogant fuckers in the cunt? Acidic, boiling wrath leaves me too confused and i walk past. As i turn back, there is an indian family on those places, two grown-ups and their little daughter. They chatted languidly, in the same voices, in their language though. But the dialogue must have been entirely fabricated by me then.


That was the day stuff had to change.
(funktrash soul = combustion engine, Sun 28 Aug 2011, 18:20, 7 replies)

This is a lot more entertaining if it's read in the voice of William Burroughs.

( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Sun 28 Aug 2011, 21:24, closed)

Absolutely.
I was thinking Faulkner, but Burroughs is spot on.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 29 Aug 2011, 9:44, closed)

if this was your epiphany as a massive wanker then it was time well spent.

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Sun 28 Aug 2011, 21:42, closed)

The shoe shine boy put on his hustling smile and looked up into the Sailor’s dead, cold, undersea eyes
I like this.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Mon 29 Aug 2011, 0:03, closed)

and said 'Get Rhythm'

( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Mon 29 Aug 2011, 8:38, closed)

When you get the blues?
Love that song.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Mon 29 Aug 2011, 9:37, closed)

Ive read something similar recently
in One Day...the current favorite of the chattering classes.
( bane, Mon 29 Aug 2011, 1:39, closed)