Come and get me…

Maybe one day I’ll wake up and realize that my life is just one huge pile of recreational drugs. The potent smell of the marijuana and texture of the cocaine; the soft tones of the heroin and grotesque appearance of the shrooms. Perhaps that day, I’ll decide that my time has come and I want to go out in a blazing glory as well. Suppose I were to sit on top of my car, flipping through a magazine for my steel daughter, like an aging woman in a beauty salon. What would the neighbors say? How would the SWAT team disarm me without putting one between my eyes or at least throwing a tear grenade directly at me? I’d force Ali to stay inside because this is my fight. Or maybe I wouldn’t even fight at all. My future could hold a demise that would rival the one of Sonny Corleone. I’ve done my share of dirt. What goes around comes around, right? Fuck it. I’m ready. One more line, one more magazine…and I’m coming home, Stephanie.

Potential energy can easily be made kinetic…


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