Cocaine From The Devil’s Own Stash

Life’s a lot like that, of course. We never get beyond what we started off with. It’s like the story of whatever – you know the one. The story of whatever. It’s just like that story. What good is the thing you started off with anyway? The fantasy which I have of myself is busy having fantasies and these second-order fantasies have taken on more reality for me than anything else in my life ever did. Oddly enough you might say, because there is a degree of peculiarity here that we can’t entirely disregard, no matter how much we may like to. So maybe I’m a fool; maybe that’s what you’re thinking. Maybe I’m just some jackass talking shyte. I’m just like anyone else though, I’m no different from any other gobshyte, I can promise you that. I’ve got a fantasy going on and in that fantasy I’m dreaming, in that fantasy I’m fantasising. The fantasy me is having the hallucination that it’s human and that it’s got a life. That’s one hell of a thing isn’t it? I’ve got problems in my second-order fantasy – problems that are keeping me up at night. Everyone’s always got problems and I’ve got them too – bad ones. That’s what I mean when I say we never get beyond what we started off with. We’d like to, that’s for sure, but we can’t. We spend a lot of time trying but it doesn’t do us any good, not in the long run it doesn’t. Not that we care very much about ‘the long run’ of course – that’s not on anyone’s radar, least of all mine. Except for the fact that I’m just about already there. I put my money on fantasy escaping just the same as everyone did and now the fantasy-escape has gotten worse than what I was escaping from ever was. Play’s got no limits, isn’t that what they say? Pretty exciting stuff, you might surmise. Pretty damn exciting. No limits, isn’t that what we all want to hear? We’ll pay good money to have someone tell us that and they always do. ‘There are no limits here,’ the voice says, ‘you can keep on expanding your bullshit forever. It just keeps getting better…’ I arrived on the scene just the same as anyone else: wearing a suit and tie and shiny black shoes – shoes you could see your face in. I was confident, cocky. Convinced that I knew what life was all about. Cocaine from the Devil’s own personal stash, right? You know there’s no buzz like it. Look at me now though. It’s a bit of a different story now, wouldn’t you say? You can be honest – no need to worry about hurting my feelings. Nose candy from the Devil’s very own stash. Yes sir. You’re feeling pretty fine, pretty fine altogether. It’s fine to be feeling fine – that much I do know. I don’t think anyone’s going to argue with me on that point – it’s fine to be fine, so fine to be fine. I could write a poem about it. I could but it would be a very empty one. Frighteningly empty. So very, very empty. I don’t think you’d like it. Our whole world is like that of course – very fine and very empty, very fine and very empty. I could write a poem about that too but I won’t. You’re in the world with no limits, you see. Shoes so shiny you could see your face in them, if you wanted to,. You wouldn’t want to though – it’s a very frightened face and you would be frightened to see it. It might remind you of something you don’t want to know. It might remind you that you are at the end of the line. It might remind you that the game is over. That the game was over right from the moment it began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *