Deepinit (deepinit) wrote in _oneliners,

Even though the line is more than a week old...

I'm minding my business thinking about how it's winter and how I hate it and how my feet are freezing and how the wind keeps bitch slapping me in the face everytime I turn a corner. I'm stepping off the sidewalk and crossing the street where I spot this dude standing by the Beavertail and when my feet hit the sidewalk again he asks me if I smoke weed and I tell him I don't even though I do. He starts walking with me asking me if I got change to spare for a 'hungry brutha' and I tell him I don't.

Then he sees the look in my eye that tells him I've had a bad day and he asks me if I did and its too late in the night and its not gonna make a difference to tell him that I did. Then he looks all offended and tells me but at least I have an apartment to go to and he don't have nowhere but the streets and I wonder why in the hell this guy is still talking to me and my brain goes on instinct's thought at a million miles a minute and quickly size everything up about him.

And now he's shuffling going backwards and forwards quickening and slowing his pace walking behind infront and behind again and I'm salavating at the thought that this guy's gonna try something because I want him to try something. The prospect of beating on an anonymous human being that has nothin goin and nothin doin in his life that he try to sell you drugs and then skim off you for food is making my heart beat something fierce.

An anonymous person to take the place of every mug you have to look at every day and want to tear their fucking limbs off. What with bills and deadlines and cubicles and schools and office bitches that make your life hell all it piles into one meaningless clump of shit focused on bottom lines and top dollars that right now you don't care. There couldn't be any other better place to be in the world right now cause here I am all alone with the one guy in the world who I can mould into the epitomy of anything and everything I hate and beat the living fuck out of him and no one from the civilized world would care. Cops would think it was regular underground stuff and people would protests more help for the lower classes and that would be a good thing because the hippies would be happy because the poor got money while the conservative types are just happy that there's at least one more dead and not on the streets and in the end everyone is happy.

And just as quickly as the thought comes and the rush starts to invade my body he's crossing the street mumbling something I can't make out and all the fire that had instantly been built inside me is quickly quelled to a low simmer where I'm forced to hold it in for another day.:
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