Lies and Lines Version 1

my first & brief attempt in capturing some of my experiences in a previous chapter of my life. I know it needs a lot of work, but I wanted to get the idea started.

I stepped out of my car, locked the door, and slammed it shut.

The sprinklers were on, so I had to hop around the walkway to his house.

 

I always made sure to keep my keys in my hand.

For some reason, I felt too vulnerable

If I stood there empty handed, waiting for him to answer the door.

 

Once inside, I know the drill. He gives me hug, I sit down.

He makes me a drink, usually something involving vodka.

We chat for the sake of doing so,

We both know why I'm here...

 

After a few minutes, he'll get up and walk to his bedroom. He returns with a mirrored tray.

The white lines are already perfectly divided, a row of six, split into two sets of three.

The saddest part is how excited I feel when I see it.

Blood pumping.

Heart pounding.

Exhilarated.

 

The straw feels so right in my nostril, as if the only reason I have a nose is to snort various powders.

We take turns, first me, then him.

The effect is immediate; and I now feel normal once again.

 

He puts on movie, and pulls me towards him.

After a half hour or so,

He gets up to get us more.

When the movie is over,

He leads me to his bedroom.

We don't talk about what goes on.

We don't talk about "us".

We both enjoy what we have, and know better.

 

My drug induced haze disables my ability to think logically.

I don't see this as wrong; I don't see it as degrading.

I don't see it as disgusting.

 

No one but him knows that I'm here.

My friends & my family don't have a clue.

 

He sends me home with a bag of my own, to keep me happy for a few days, until we meet again.

The fact that he does this makes me think that he cares... And I question if I even want him to.

 

The drive home is always insightful and strange.

My paranoia is extremely high, and my mind is racing.

 

I get inside my house, run to my bed and sit under my blankets.

If I start to feel crazy, I'll chain smoke,

Watching late night T.V. and wishing that

 

I felt

Substantial.

 

But it's just another guy, just another line, just another night alone,

In the life of a coke w***e.

 

 

Author's Note

I know it needs a lot of work; so be honest with comments.
I'm not very happy with the tone, or language, but those can be fixed. I am contemplating comprising a small group of similar experiences from the same time period into a series. I would like to convey as much as possible with the least amount of words, so vocab would be crucial. Let me know.

Reviews

[Kedeyi]

Well... That made for quite sad reading - but that's good, it was a sad story.

Initially I wasn't too sure about the use of such short paragraphs/stanzas. Was this meant to be a poem or a short story...? But, as I read on, it made perfect sense.

Written in standard prosaic form, I probably would have given up after a few lines as it's quite a depressing slice of life story and I'm not usually into that kind of prose. But the short beats made me want to read more, to see what would come next. The style gave an overall staccato feel which seemed to reflect the subject's behaviour and feelings... detached, impersonal, alienated; lots of pregnant pauses, activity interspersed with lots of emptiness.

I actually like the tone and language, given the subject matter, and that's saying something considering it's not the sort of thing I'd usually be into reading. Definitely keep it lean and be careful not to over tweak it. I'd stick to simple vocabulary and not make it seem too thought out or self-conscious as I think it needs to maintain a raw edginess to effectively convey your intent.

Good luck with future drafts and the planned series.

[perfectlymetiKulous]

I seriously enjoyed reading.
Couldn't even offer criticism if I wanted to.
Simple yet complex, and very to the point - I think, the essence of what you wanted to convey.
Can't wait to read more.