Me personally, I embrace living
. As a person
on the planet
, I try on a daily basis to encourage what's right. "What's right" differs in every single person that stands by my side. This difference creates our individuality
, but at the same time groups us into who we know, love
, and hate
. The beauty
shown by my mind. I have lived, my eyes see many things. My nose exposed to the most pungent
stenches humanity can expose physically and mentally and my fingers touch, stroke, stick to, and absorb pain everyday.
But last night hurt. I've seen similar things. Maybe it's the current transition I'm going through. I drank one Harp after work while playing pool with Titus. Titus and I go back about 9 months. He provided me with cocaine initially, but we have both moved on to a speed free lifestyle. After watching Bucks beat the Magic, we headed back to his place. He'd mentioned something about his roomate and her current state of troubles. I know her, she's a stripper who pushes X on the side. Once we got inside, I absorbed the situation within a second......my first response yelled at me to leave.
I turned on the living room light to find the place trashed. Trails of blood stained the hardwood floor. Their dogs were bundled together on the couch, they know me and moved over so I could pet them. The dogs sported marker drawn glasses, the inital giggle this produced turned sour with the blood on the back of one leg. I walked over to her room where Titus stood in the doorway. The shithole feeling you get from P.T. Anderson consumed me. Every nerve in my body turned into steel while I stood in front of a crying, half naked girl. Her right forearm was carved to a fucking flesh salad with blood dressing. "Where's my fucking X?" Titus and I glared at each other. It was obvious she took all of it, it was obvious she was in the process of trying to convince herself into her own lie, and it was fucking obvious that no one ever wants to see this! You have to semi-humor someone completely freaked out.....you have to. So Titus and I looked around for 15 minutes, looking for a pill bottle that didn't exist. Our search revealed method, broken glass and blood scattered throughout the sink. I put my hand on the counter with enough pressure to allow a few shards inside my hand. As I picked them out, I almost got sick. You can't feel pain when you are mentally numb. I wanted to grab her, pick her up, and shake the shit out of her. Drugs destroy people, I still smoke pot, but no use of anything to the degree of what I witnessed last night. I didn't shake her, Titus called her best friend. He also cleaned the cuts on her arm. Her friend said he'd take her to the hospital later, she didn't OD.....she freaked the fuck out.
She's OK, I just called Titus. A visit to the hospital late last night got her the medical attention she needed. At least physically, but images stick and this one is permanent.