Work Text:
I'm going to hell anyway, so I'll make heaven on earth with you.
Because I'm an alcoholic. I'm a smoker. Yes my breath smells of red Marlboro cigarettes that I have been gripping on to like a vice ever since I've been 17 years old. Listen, I got a late start, I needed to beat the weed addiction first. And no, I don't like Marlboro gold, and yes I've tried it. Why are you going to the right when I need you to be balanced? Dick.
One or the other, I cannot get rid of them either way. If I can't drown myself in alcohol or cigarettes, in books or random pills (I take a few too many just to see what happens sometimes, once had like 50 mg of melatonin just to see what would happen). I fuck around with random vices like some of you horny bastards fuck around on porn sights. Maybe it's the sexual tension between me and my hand, maybe I'm such a hardcore asexual that I'm just different, but I'll never know.
I don't really want to know, fuck knowing. Maybe that's why I'm starting to despise books like the back of my hand, always seemingly to remind myself of the bloody veins running through my body. And now I have once more reminded myself that I am very edgy. And also a twat. Look at that, what a doll I am. Charming.
I don't know where I'm going with this, but ABBA is blasting in my headphones at a volume which won't blow out my eardrums. I should have just gotten drunk today, but no. I'll ask my friend to buy me a bottle of vodka, she turned eighteen today, cheers love. If I seem like a desperate alcoholic, then so be it. Maybe I'll at least wait until Friday, but it's undetermined how long I will be able to stay sober for. The longest I've gone is a week, because I was physically unable to get a bottle. That's a lie, I was in Austria, and I could have brought wine because I'm old enough for that. (the legal age to buy beer or wine there is 16, glad I had more than a year on that number).
Still regretting being a goody two shoes and not getting that bottle of wine. In my defense, I was sharing a hotel room with my dear mother, and I didn't want to give off too much of a show that I was a raging alcoholic. She already caught me smoking weed late last year, yeah, better not add “alcoholic” to that list of growing names: pothead, faggot, youngest of the family, suicidal. Maybe I should delete the last part.
I think I've done quite good for myself. I'm not in a mental hospital, yet. Partly I'm thankful that my birthday is later this year, or else I would be a raging alcoholic and smoker. Ain't that the way to live, beautiful. Every Russian literature man would be proved, maybe women as well, I don't get along with either. I only like myself. AND THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME A LITTLE CUNT, I STILL KNOW I'M A CUNT, SO I'M NOT A CUNT.
Sometimes I get emotional. Sometimes I'd rather be drinking hard gin than tea. God I want a black coffee. I don't believe in God, not in the Jesus Christ sense. But God is a funny term we humans have strived for ever since the calendar was invented. Does that mean that Jesus invented time? Not now Britney Spears, I'm trying to think about the creation of time and space after the birth of Jesus H. Christ. I need to get laid or laid in to a body bag. Either works in today's society.
Let's be honest, nothing works in today's society. I would bore you with my long writing about how we could correct society as we know it today, but even if I did, you are reading this because you are as insane or as lazy as me. And a bunch of lazy people cannot start a revolution, because in truth, we're all just in melancholy, depressed from the state of the world. It has strained us to the point where even fighting for our own rights has started to strain our nerves. Annie, I am not okay.
I WANT A FUCKING CIGARETTE. I would add an Arabic curse here if I knew how to even speak Arabic, but I am as white as the snow outside my window, so I wont be commenting on that topic any further. I'd rather talk about squelching wet pussy with my kindergarten teacher than discuss politics. That line kind of shoots my previous paragraph of text in the back, but I was only suggesting of talking about politics, so really, your honor, I'm innocent.
Innocent as the day I fucked your mother. I had to get that in there. I have nothing to say for my defense, so I will suffer in paining and agony AND think about drinking myself into a senseless stupor. God I don't fucking know how I lived without alcohol.
I think writers are so stupid. You sit on your ass for hours a day, hoping the text grows longer and longer as you continue to type, that your words might hold some meaning, some little, tiny, miniscule detail of resemblance to everything else you've read. Here's the kicker, if you want to be a good writer, just don't read. If you truly want to be original, then the easiest way to deal with it is with a clean slate. Can't be a copycat if you have nothing to copy. I read the last stance with an Italian accent, even I need a bit of humor.
But of course, there is a clear time and space for everything. Plato probably wouldn't have been half as famous as he is today, if he lived today. A classic wasn't always a classic, the color brown was once orange and blue. But how long can we keep mixing colors for, until there are no new colors to create? When will something original stop being original?
I think that time is already here, frankly. And it is sad. I wished I lived in an earlier life, not because I like the aesthetics or what color court dresses the ladies were wearing. No, because there were so many possibilities and nothing to keep you from them. From my previous ramblings it is clear that I am not a firm keeper of the law, but that does not mean I hate it entirely as I have suggested.
I think law is needed, law has a purpose, rules have a purpose. As well as rituals and birthdays of the sort. Something for our feeble human minds to hold onto something. But the process of laws has gotten so long, and so impossibly winding, I find it stupid to keep adding them. Like, who the fuck decided to say if marrying another person of the same sex was okay or not? The process of loving someone and caring enough to marry them isn't some political debate we have to discuss over. It shouldn't even be a law, something like love has no laws, therefore I find the existence of such laws completely and utterly bonkers. Stupid cunts.
What I'm trying to say is that we have too many laws for too many people. Have you ever read a lawbook? I have, got curious once. And even with my astounding knowledge of two completely different languages, one being my mother tongue and the latter English, I couldn't understand shit.
So why should I know what to do or what not to do, when I don't even understand what I'm supposed to be doing. But now you may be asking: But what does it matter if you know it or not? Laws are in place to keep people from acting out, that's what all of this is built on, our life and society.
But think of it this way: if laws are so important for our livelihood and wellbeing, then how did humanity live before them? I'm talking somewhere around the 15th century, hell, we can even go as high as the 17th century. Most of the people on earth during that time, DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO READ. Much less, own actual books. What would a farmer with a book? Stick his dick between the pages?
And I can confidently say that there wasn't some small prick going around from town to town, village to village, farm to farm, telling people what they can and can't do. Now you may argue that a very familiar thing might have been the church during that period. But if we only looked to laws in the older times as the word of God or/ and the church, we would literally be centering our whole attention wholly on Europe alone. Let's think about Africa or Asia for that matter, they had Gods in their own right, obviously, but they didn't have thick books that told them what they can't or can do. What they will or won't go to hell for.
Now someone probably brought up the Quran at this point, and a fair argument, very close to the bible and its origin is situated in Asia. But that is still dismissing a whole other part of the world. Namely Indians on the other part of the globe, and I won't even start on Africa. And they didn't start a blood bath because they didn't have a thick book of rules.
And even if we didn't have these tight knit laws, people lived in relative harmony. “But what about the countless wars?” You may ask, the torturing of people, prostitution and child labor. And to that I would answer: nothing has changed. Wars are constantly happening in Africa, but of course pressed down by the press. Ha, funny little play on words I did there. There is even a war in Europe at the very moment. Because all these bad things in the world, the child labor, sexual trafficking, prostitution, torture and senseless murder. They are gonna be around until the end of time. Just because it isn't happening on your doorstep, doesn't mean that something doesn't exist.
Anyway, back to tying up loose ends. What I'm saying is, laws don't actually matter. It's something that someone said, that a small group of middle aged politicians all agreed to, and then there was a law. It's on paper, and no one cares in the heat of the moment.
If a Russian soldier in Germany is gonna pull a woman off the tram and rape here right there in the street, then no one is gonna bat an eye. True things that happened after the end of WW2 in Germany by the way. And of course, there's also the fact of nailing, very much living, people to barn walls after beating them half bloody. This was happening in 1945, probably after the end of the second world war as well, for a time.
What I'm saying is, again, humans don't change. Time changes. Our inventions change, but the core part of being human will never change.
Not unless we become genetically modified robot humans with dicks that we can switch out depending on the size we are feeling that day. Maybe that could change something, but I doubt it.
I need a cigarette.