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Tuesday, June 03, 2008
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HAPPY ENDING part 9...
part 9
kojak...
i met him when i was 19...i had a small part in a sam shepard play and he played the lead...
in the midst of a forced "financial" methadone detox...
i found him in the parking lot of the clinic..
a financial detox is when you can't pay your bill and they take you down 10 mgs a day...
it's fast and furious and when you reach the end you are fucked...
ripped apart like a rag doll... sucked null...void and dry...
all for the want of roughly $90...
a small but often impossible price to pay
for the bright warm love now leaving your cells
desperate and dying of pink thirst...
the place was snuggled right between the main road and the hill...
every dope neighborhood in pennsylvania is called the hill...
it just is... in pittsburgh i spent nine days dopesick in the arms of a west virginia stripper
because we were white and couldn't go on "the hill"...
kojak and his wife mary ann had fourty cats...
cold and heartless when it came to dope business...
they never ever turned a cat away... they were the neighborhood drop-off for unwanted litters
or abandoned battle scarred veterans with missing eyes and shredded ears...
thrown away by people more heartless than even us...
somehow they managed to feed their animals, support their habit and keep from being evicted...
nearly functional junkies with a sliver of a soul left behind..
she had a beautiful garden...
filled with flowers and rusty garbage and feral cats staring
like they knew something
about you
you didn't......
the ritual was as follows... i'd call them... make the twenty minute drive...
hand kojak the money... and he'd go cop for us...
took him anywhere from ten minutes to a few hours if it was hot
but he always came through...
then to the upstairs bathroom where i would rummage through the plastic bag of dirty needles
searching for one that was bleach worthy...
often times the syringes were so old the rubber tip would seperate from the plunger...
in which case we would grease them with a bit of vaseline and prayer.....
i hated bleaching... desperate and kicking...
taking time to run bleach through the gimmick seemed like an eternity...
but kojak insisted...three times always...then three rinses..
the old junkie with the heart of a used car dealer
probably saved my life a thousand times....
once we were all high, business went out the window...
we laughed and chain smoked... once in a while we had money for food..
mary ann made dinner
and we'd sit back to watch the black and white movies on their pirated cable...
hepburn and heroin...sugary tea and dusty stained furniture...
yellow eyes drooling...ferocious purring..raggedy dog at my feet...
the best and worst times of my life...
he was completely bald from a young age... hence the name kojak...
she was slightly retarded... or learning disabled... or just brain damaged from ten bags of heroin a day...
but her mannerisms had some kind of twisted poetry to them...
she would form slow sentences with a lydia lunch whine...
childlike
calculating...
she worked relentlessly on the garden...staying high...and caring for the cats...
she slobbered mutant baby talk to them in the same sweet voice
that ordered the hot shot for trent...
leaving my friend a ghost on the highway
lifeless..junkie blue...
and
unable to testify
against us...
7:08 PM
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Sunday, January 27, 2008
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HAPPY ENDING PART 8
part 8
going out.....
"fucking hell this is good sm................."
i said
and in that fleeting instant
everything was nothing...
Su stood over me screaming... pulling the gimmick from
my arm and tearing the shoelace from my wrist...she was barely 18
(from taiwan) and was ill prepared to cope with a junkie boyfriend
whose lips were turning blue....
my nephew chad and my running partner trent
came running from the next room...chad started CPR and trent
something he called pain stimulation
this consisted of grinding his knuckle into my chest
(sitting in rehab later i was actually pissed at the poor guy for the bruise)
they flushed all the drugs and called 911...
i woke up in the ambulance with EMT's
screaming my name...
motherfuckers had shot me up with narcan..
funny thing is..
narcan is supposed to put you into immeadiate withdrawl..
but as i rode to the hospital i was still high as a bitch...
.i was clinically dead for a few minutes...
and it wasn't at all like i ever thought it would be...
there was nothing..not a fucking thing.
no angels..no trumpets...no white light at the end of the tunnel..
just a thick black swamp of oblivion...
i met trent at a record store...he was my age...
an $80,000 a year health insurance executive
with a wife/car/house and
wore suits to work..
we were the oddest couple...
trent's dead....
he got busted and rolled over
on kojak (the wrong guy)...ended up with a hot shot...
trent wasn't even a banger..
the smack they gave him was pure enough to kill a horse..
he snorted it and nodded out behind the wheel on interstate 81...
i was in L.A when i got the call from his wife...
in the junkie business
you get used to your friends dying after awhile..
but i had given trent his first fix...i felt responsible
and according to his wife i was...
as i hung up the pale feeling in my throat overcame me
and i thought for a moment..
how stupid the poor bastard was...
chad was one of the few human beings in my life
i have ever felt true love from...
he was my first (drunk abusive) wifes nephew..
he was 5 when i met him...
a blonde haired blue eyed cherub of a little boy from a broken home...
in my fumbling way i tried to be a father figure...
he really didn't have much in the way of a male role model...
whatever sleazebag bass player or gold chain wearing coke freak
his mom was shacked up with
that week..
so i suppose i was an improvement....
he had an incredible gift for all things art...
he would draw me pictures of rockstars with his crayons..
he would do (unbeknownst to him at the time)
little performance art pieces for me in my living room...
"look uncle james i'm an ice cube melting!"
he would
curl up in a square...and then slowly drip
into a cherub tow head puddle on the floor...
never has such a little bit of kindness come back
to any other human being in such a huge and magnifcent way...
it was chad who i called from queens general
(psychiatric evaluation)
for help...i was crumbling and scared
dressed in blue slippers..
at the end of my run...
funny you know...when you get to the end of it all.
it's calm...the defeat...
of the jail cell..
or rehab..
or halfway house...
so peaceful
when you hang your head in shame
and realize you have to live again...
he sent me a bus ticket and we stayed together
in the basement of the tattoo parlour where he worked for years..
a true golden soul chad...
he never gave up on me...
there are such people in the world...
at least one..
the police came to the hospital and questioned me..
i had copped out of their jurisdiction so they carted me off to rehab..
took two weeks for the county to decide i wasn't worth
the $1000 dollars a day it was gonna cost them to get me clean...
and i came home to chad...
Su
was waiting...
smile on her face...
a few weeks later her parents
took her back to taiwan
(to get her away from me)
and stranded her there without her passport...
she was 5 months pregnant with my child
when she finally returned...
her brothers threw her in a car
and drove her across state lines
where it was legal to have a late term abortion....
when i finally saw her months later
i put my head on her lap
and sobbed in front
of a room full
of strangers...
.
10:56 AM
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Friday, September 21, 2007
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HAPPY ENDING part 7
part 7
miss anthropy
i know you don't "know" me....
but you do....
you walk by us everyday..
by the hundreds in a months time...
we are the losers...the shot out....the fucked up...
strung out on pills or wine or cutting ourselves with razorblades..
a few too many 3 martini lunches
or one too many lost friend or broken heart...
and
we go down
and...
stay there..
ghosts...walking around dead...
too fragile for this world
yeah that's right...
too fucking fragile
for this world...
cause lets face it..
it's a horrible mistake...
god forbid there is ever another human race...
we are the blood-thirstiest...
dirtiest...most destructive
souless machine to ever grace any planet in the universe....
and what's worse...
everything we believe is wrong....
and ...on top of that undisputable fact..
we're arrogant...
thinking we know anything (with 90% of our brain undeveloped...)
we are a blip on the radar...an experiment gone wrong..
a piece of time between ice ages to small to have a name...
it's all too stupid...i mean...jesus buddha allah whatever...
what about in our lifetime...
we idiot american puritans were so shocked when john lennon
said he was more popular than jesus christ...
for fucks sake
he was jesus christ...
as was ghandi...
as was martin luther king...
these people were put on this earth...
by god...
and they tried
they tried
they tried so desperately to teach us
to love one another....
and we killed them...we fucking killed them...
you gettin the connection here?
we couldn't grasp the concept....because loving your fellow man..
means loving them more than money...
and very few people
love very few people
more than that...
so hooray for capitalism...yee ha america...
but it's time you people understand...
that when you have "winners"
you have losers as well...
and we aren't going away...
god
spelled backwards
is dog....
the only reason i know anything of love...
is a little dog who i thought i rescued
who in fact rescued me....
wagging her tail..
happy to see me...
sick and dying....
her eyes filled with love
no matter what
her eyes filled with love
real love....
real love motherfucker....
but you don't get it
do you.........?
2:51 PM
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HAPPY ENDING part 6....
HAPPY ENDING
part 6
the homecoming
i've decided is of a bit too much of an "adult" nature
for this venue....i felt it was important to delve deeper
into the respective diseases that james and jade share..
however i have some younger readers and need to respect that....
therefore i am making it available by request only...
simply leave a comment below letting me know you wanna read it
and i'll be happy to send it to you via myspace message....
feel free to comment on the chapter below as well because
as you know...i am a total comment whore...
DISCLAIMER
"happy ending" is a work of fiction...the character of jade
is an amalgam of a plethora of women i have known in my life...
the character of james i suppose could be semi-autobiographical...
but at present i am not strung out on heroin..am engaged..
and very happy...even planning to bring children into the world
that james has given up on....the character of star is based entirely
on my dog "monkey"...but he is not ill...and has assured me
he has no plans of taking legal action...even if i did make him
a girl dog in the book....
everyones kind encouragement means so much...
yours,
DAVID RAT
2:10 PM
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Tuesday, September 18, 2007
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HAPPY ENDING PART 5
part 5
newark
"where does the flight from dublin come in?"
i was shaking like a leaf...it had been 7 months
since i had met her on myspace...
in those 7 months i had managed to go from a high school
friends couch... strung out
with 100 millagrams of methadone...
to 6 months clean..a little korean car...and a
rented house in a white trash town
nestled into grey pennsylvania mountains....
it wasn't exactly the kind of place i had envisioned for us..
a coal mining town...
after the mines had closed...
a black and blue toothache
of a bedroom community...
with a reputation for hillbillies and hard drugs...
i hooked up with the local recovery folk..
and didn't go out of my way to meet anyone...
this fucking town was razor sad..
.but our house was clean and warm...and it was there i curled
up with star in my arms at night...both of us dreaming of our new mama...
spending countless hours on MSN..
then the phone...then the webcam...
there were poems...
and promises
sad sadistic lovemaking...
and emptiness...
but...
there was a reason...
now i had a reason....
and yes she was decades younger..and yes i had met her on the
internet...and yes most of you
would shake your heads and disapprove....
as everyone did when i told them about jade...
but we all have our preferences...and at the very least..
unlike heroin..
she was legal...
people were starting to trickle off the plane now..
.i looked like some kind of
androgynous reverse drag stevie nicks...(as usual)...
in my gypsy scarves,black fingernails and long 70's coat...
i hid behind a pole as an eternity ended
and she walked into the reception.
i was fucking freaked..
there is no feeling as intense and terrifying as meeting someone
for the first time..
who you've been
desperately in love with for months...
but there she was...walking towards me
in short black skirt
and velvet boots...
my little boho chic
goth chick
looking like
eurotrash royalty
gone wrong...
our eyes met...and the world literally came to a halt..
i was lost in electric blue
ivory white skin
and vicious pink lips...
i bit them gently and brushed my fingertips
against the side of her face...
and we fell into it...
like an ocean on fire...
everything crashing down around us...
all the needles and the razorblades...
the suicide notes drenched
with one million tears...
the park benches,rehabs
prison cells
and abortions...
all gone..
all burnt down...
all sent to hell...
by
a little girl's
smile...
2:39 PM
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Monday, September 17, 2007
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HAPPY ENDING PART 4...
part 4
the war...
I've known
functioning alcoholics...
the single dad who drinks himself into a stupor
with a with a six pack or two
after work...
there are functioning potheads...
blazing up
out behind
their minimum wage prisons
at lunchbreak...
even funtioning cocaine addicts..
that can do an 8-ball..
drink the depression away
and be at the office
bleary eyed and penniless
the very next day...
but there is no such thing
(i repeat)
no such thing
as a functioning heroin addict...
heroin is the mafia queen bitch of all drugs...
in other words once you're in..
you ain't gettin out....
because
she
was the sun and the moon..
your life/your heart/your soul
everything belonged to her.....
yes....
people have been known to "recover"..
i did....
i went to narcotics anonymous meetings in..in new york..los angeles..
sometimes managing to put 6 months together here...a year there....
i was even clean for 4 years once in new york...
signed to a major label..
living with the teen eurotrash model
or trust fund cookie of the month ....
my band were
darlings
of the press...
i took a
new york times article
home for my grandmother to read..
became friends with artists
i had idolized as a child..
opened for ginsberg
in thompkins square...
my father
got to see me
play on network television once...
(the yardstick by which artistic merit
is measured in rural america...)
but in the end
she never let go of my hand...
and for that reason alone
she was
better than any woman...
but also better
than any band,or friend
or family member...
not gonna give you the "basketball diaries" speech..
but she was
true love angel smack...
goddess of everything fucked...
the warm womb...
reminding me
that
everything was nothing...
that all my problems
were nothing...
reminding me
that i really
didn't
give
a
fuck...
star was the only constant in my life.....
the one little promise i kept...
which is
a rare and wonderous thing
coming from a junkie...
i shoplifted dogfood...i painted the vet's office...
in return i got the kind of devotion...
no human being has
ever
even fucking
aspired to...
but now with one love
a black bird
across
a black ocean...
and one love dying...
in my arms
a little more
each night....
not god nor man
could stop me....
3:47 PM
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Tuesday, August 28, 2007
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HAPPY ENDING 3
part 3
star...
the colors and smells of the L.A. mexican neighborhood
were overpowering...
i walked down towards 12th and alverado to meet jesus...
yeah, my man's name was jesus of all things......
he hung me on the cross beside him....
a biblical thief hanging from a syringe filled with black tar dope..
i'd rest there peacefully coversing with latin ice cart-men...
street poets..
chicken shack whores
and fat mexican mama's
with huge asses and bigger hearts ...
"oi poppi?"
"what you doing down here in the barrio?"
"you need a gun or a dog or something baby?"
yeah as if i gave a fuck
about some cholo sticking me
for the few bags of dope
and the dirty works in my ripped bellbottoms...
my life was over..
i had that aching emptiness of a junkie
who was one shot over the edge..
there was no turning back...
a copping/shooting/copping machine...
sold my soul a long time ago...
for an angry at the world starry eyed fix...
jesus was late...as always...
i leaned back against a wooden fence to roll a cig...
then as in a dylan-esque
"simple twist of fate"
my life changed..
i heard her cry ...
a pitiful hopeless whine that made my skin crawl...
from the other side of the fence
god was crying the tears
of a little brown dog...
i crawled up so i could look over and there she was...
no more than 12 weeks old i figured..
she was in a cage no bigger than her....
emaciated,
covered with sores..
she spoke to me with filthy dirty puss-filled angel eyes...
she screamed into my drug filled brain with death bed telepathy..
i melted into the asphalt...
jesus walked up and asked what the fuck i was doing..
i demanded to know what this place was...and who owned the dog..
i was informed it was a breeding operation for dog fighters..
i kept my mouth shut as they were "friends" of his..
i copped the black death ...
shoved it into my pocket
and started to walk back to the bus stop..
i got back to the dirty hotel in van nuys...
i started to prepare my cook up ritual...
hoping the smack would stop the awful screams
that were embedded
in my brain...
but something, something wouldn't let me fix...
i sat there staring at my 12 hours
worth of salvation....
took a couple shots of tequila to hold off the sickness
for a few moments...
and it hit me..
i knew this was my last chance...
i could save myself ...
i could reclaim
my ragged blackbird soul...
i could not love myself..
but i knew when i saw her
i was still capable of love..
i drank until dark...finished the bottle....
put on black clothes and a bandanna around my neck...
grabbed some bolt cutters
hot wired the first car i saw...
and drove down
hollywood boulevard ...
i had abandoned the god
of my understanding
so long ago... i almost didn't recognise her voice
in my misplaced joan of arc brain.....
but now i knew it was her
as she whispered in a soft but firm cotton cloud...
"do this for me james"
i reached to check if the .22 derringer was safely stuffed
in the back of my jeans"
the only thing my grandfather left me...
the cold steel was strangely warm
against the small of my back...
i pulled up next to the compound
and left the car running...
i pulled the black bandanna over my face
and started to hack away at the chain with the bolt cutters..
i could hear her whimpering...
"quiet baby quiet"
i thought to myself...
"daddy's coming"
i hacked away at the last of the chain
with god given strength
unknown to a scrawny and (dopesick) junkie...
i was inside.....
.
lightning struck me in the heart
as i drew my grandfathers pistol ..
i undid the lock on her cage....
scooped her up in my arms...
lights went on in the house...
i fired two warning shots in the air to scare them and buy us some time...
she clung to me as i held her with one hand...
she didn't make a sound...
we jumped in the stolen car and sped off into the valley...
she sat on my lap looking up at me and i burst into tears.....
her eyes burned into me..
i reached behind me
and threw the gun into the street...
she stood on my thigh and licked my face
as we drove down sunset boulevard...
i knew junkie james was dead and gone..
i knew there was a reason for me to stay on this dying planet..
i knew god was on my side again....
i knew the world was wrong
to throw me
and this little dog away..
i pulled the car over ..
she jumped in my arms...
holding me like i was her mother......
i walked into the flea bag hotel lobby
she smiled at me through her heart...
i reached in my pocket
and threw
the heroin
in the trash...
10:47 PM
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Sunday, July 01, 2007
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HAPPY ENDING PREVIEW
HAPPY ENDING
part 1
james...
The disease crept in with the new dawn..
with a slap seemingly from god's own hand
I was awake...the smell of cat urine and lilac filled the air...
i'm fucking sick" I groaned to no one...
with the reality of my 46 too far gone years I reached for the wake up bag...
"let me up star" I whispered to the old brown dog...
she sighed a delicate drone across my lap...
I wished I could do something more than make her comfortable...
the tumors had taken her over...still her heart filled her eyes..you know..
those big beautiful junkyard eyes
that bleed brown sorrow...
enough beauty and sadness to drown the whole human race
in a sick little dog's eyes....
in the kitchen I washed a blackened table spoon...
reached in my pocket for the glass rig
and half fell down the
basement stairs...as I reached the bottom I counted the hours in my head.....
"8 to 9...9 to 10...10 to 11"
my dyslexia made me count this tedious routine a thousand times a day..
I finally arrived at"1:00 pm Dublin time" and gently opened the crystalline bag...
as always I wondered what she was doing at that very moment......
I filled the cloudy glass with water...
"maybe lunch"...
the syringe shot a tiny stream into the silver spoon...
"playing solitare"
I cooked the brown powder and water till it bubbled...
I could feel her walking around like an amputated leg..
still itching 3000 miles away..
I tied off my wrist with my belt and pumped my hand,
coaxing the nearly collapsed veins to the surface....
"maybe she's thinking of me right now"..
.I dug the needle into a spider vein and cocked back a little....
the blood and smack formed a holy union in the chamber...
"maybe she's with him"
I untied my wrist and pushed off......
and like the back of a desperate police car prayer
I tried to tell myself
she didn't matter...
then the rush....
every junkie lives for those few seconds
...the warm jets...the sonic blanket....
the silent drown of everything that means anything...
I fell back into the amber brick and pulled the gimmick from my hand..
a quick rinse...
a little leftover metallic blood tasted like frost on the tip of my tounge....
"she can't hurt you now" the heroin angels whispered...
still the memory of her
black jasmine hair
and suicide eyes
burned as oblivion melted...
her ghost haunted the vacant day away..
I drank dollar store tea
rolled cigarettes
and stroked the dying
animal's chin....
&nbs | |
