Springs
A few hours after her last big violent raging apocalyptic temper tantrum freakout, well along into her next crack mission now and cringing under the merciless lash of induced psychotic paranoia from the drug, now she was all contrite and repentant again, suddenly consumed with guilt, ashamed of her terrible violent behavior, swearing that she was really gonna ‘control’ herself from now on.Well well…I told her what I knew about the persistent old junkie myth of ’self control’.”I used to be just like you, Narcisa… pissed off all the time… and super violent, crazy uncontrollable mood swings unstable temperment, volitale as a walking time-bomb…. I had no idea there was anything wrong with me. I thought that’s just the way it goes, thought my problem was everybody else… I had to go to hell and survive it, then eat shit and die a thousand deaths to get clean and stay clean for awhile in order to finally fucking learn that it doesn’t do ya any good at all to just spend all yer time sitting on a big wound up spring trying to ‘control yerself’… What the fuck good is all that ‘control’ when you know, ya really fucking KNOW you’ll just freak out again one day and send it all to hell?”… ”What’s the use in kidding yourself, baby? When you’re fucking nuts the way we are, there IS no fucking ‘control’. If there was any ‘controlling’ this kind of insanity, I wouldn’t have wound up being a hopeless fucking drug addict in the first place. I woulda just ‘controlled’ that shit and I’d still be having my fun today. All I can tell ya is that if you ever wanna get better, You’re gonna really need to start to try and see what’s lurking down in yourself that makes you get so fucking violent and crazy in the first place… instead of wasting all that energy sitting on a fucking big old spring that’s just gonna pop loose again and fuck it all up, like it always has before…” Finally I stopped talking and just watched her silently, wondering if any of it was getting in..Silence..”Who invented the spring?” She says suddenly.I dunno.I just looked at her.”I did, Cigano. I did,” she mumbled incoherently.Whatever.Just another typical conversation with Narcisa.The end.
Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008. All Rights Reserved.
NOTIFIÇAO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção - registrados na Biblioteca Nacional como ficção com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor, Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são interamente ficticios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência.
As vários fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.
