Thursday, October 30, 2014

The Rock Star

The room is completely dark with the exception of the red ember illuminating a sweaty face. I don't have my glasses on so it is impossible to see much farther than my nose. I had gone to "sleep" a few hours or a few days ago. It is hard to tell. Have you every had that feeling when you wake up and you are not sure exactly where you are or what the fuck happened? Yeah that was me. Wait a minute. I have something in my mouth. What the fucking fuck. I fell asleep eating something- something sweet. I continue chewing this paste in my mouth. I feel the sugary paste on the corners of my mouth I must have been drooling as well.

 I try to lean up when I notice my arm has gone completely numb. I must have "slept" on it the wrong way. There is no light in here. Someone has covered the only window with cardboard. The room smells like sulfur, butane, and the faint smell of ass. That old fart smell. I know There is a light around here somewhere if I could only wake my arm up to grab my glasses off the nightstand. As I reach up to scratch my nose, I my glasses are on my face. I can't see because I am having trouble keeping my eyes open.

I am bolted awake by and alarm. What the fuck is happening here. I hear something slam again the wall. No more alarm to worry about. The light is on now, blasting into my face. He took the shade off the lamp, but I don't see him. I notice something in my mouth. The fucking cinnamon roll. I never did finish chewing it. God damn. Ugh. I see it now, smeared across my lap. I must have fell asleep half propped up, while I was eating the cinnamon roll. Everything is slowly coming into focus.

My eyes travel to the side of the bed. Ah ha. There is the culprit right there. I see the pill bottle and pick it up with the tingling arm. Whatever was in here is long gone. "May cause drowsiness". Ain't that the truth. The only thing that would cause a night like this is a klonopin, or 2, or 4. Oh my. As my gaze gets adjusted I see the blood on my arm. It looks like I was hacking on my arm while I was dipping on some benzos. I have a softball sized bruise near my elbow.

FUCK. The alarm goes off again.


I hear a voice. Where is that coming from? I lean over to the other side of the bed. There he is. Above a torn piece of carpet, I see a sweaty man. He is around 20 years old with bad skin and darting eyes. His fingers are red. His shirt is off so I can see the greasy layer of ribs leading down to his belt. I am not sure how long I have been sleeping but apparently my host never got any rest.

Without so much as giving me a sideways glance to break from his carpet surfing he hisses "Can you turn off that fucking alarm?"
I step over his back and grab it. It is the least I can do. He let me stay the night.

I pat him gently on the shoulder "hey man, I guess that means you aren't going to make it to work this morning."

I crawl back into his bed. I am not sure why he invited me here. He said it was because he didn't want to be alone. I can understand that, I can understand him. If I can get him off that floor, I might want to cuddle ESPECIALLY since I ate up all his comedown. In the meantime, I will catch a few moments of sleep. Soon, it will be check out time and I am not sure of he has any more money. We are living the dream, the dope fiend and the rock star.


  1. You are so good at painting a picture I can imagine everything I always check your blog for new post your writing style is amazing I would love to read your book and please please keep writing it lifts me up

    1. Email me I will send you my long form PDF "book". I am writing another book entirely that is going to be published in 2016. That "book" is a mixture of blog stories and family backround

  2. I love the faint smell of ass in the morning

  3. Can you email me your pdf book?