Just Breathe

Nina says...

Oh life's extremes... You can be free one moment, only to find yourself a slave the next.

But there is something masochistically healing in the sound of your shackles as you force yourself to go on. Survive the tough times, see what you're made of, kid.

But you have to make sure you have a steady war drum. Something you can march to, a rhythm you can sync your heart with.

... I always listen to what Johnny has to say. Why do I fear God? Because the man in black told me to.

SNOW!!!

Lacey says...

Susie, you're a cruel creature. If I can get downright obscene for a second, YOU ARE A COCK-GURGLING THUNDERCUNT! Go on, spread those legs widely and invite that horrendously fat dick that belongs to the enemy to pillage your so-called innocence. You are fucking The Man, admit it! You disgusting little whore. Sucker of Satan's cock!!!

How is he in bed, by the way? Is he giving it to you hard and rough, like the one in charge? Or does he leave you feeling unsatisfied, constantly awaiting the good time he promises in overly-eager kisses? Do you feel like the disappointed girl who lost herself in a night of passion, left to sleep alone, still naked, buried deep in the folds of her tainted sheets?

How does it feel to sell your soul? Is it all you ever wanted it to be?

Susie says...

Grow up. I'm too busy for this nonsense right now.

Communication

The Narrator says...

To titillate the imagination, I present to you a dream...


Upon an empty stage Sparky sits in front of a microphone. She stares out at the empty seats on the prowl for a set of mysterious eyes she knows she won't find, but still fears are there. With the coast clear, she takes the microphone off its stand and sits very still. She puts her head down with a sigh and closes her eyes. She's waiting, patiently. She's not sure what for yet, but it will come to her.

Like a ninja Nina sneaks up behind her and whispers in her ear, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Sparky opens her eyes slowly but doesn't turn around, seemingly undisturbed by Nina's surprise presence. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Now whispering in the other ear she says. "Don't think then. Just go."

That was it! Sparky knew it. Just like that a beat started up. And Sparky began to sway with it, the breaks of her scooter squeaking back and forth quietly. Then she began to bump with it. And from her mouth sprouted something unexpected... but perfect. She always knew there was a reason she harbored a disgusting crush for Marshal Mathers.

"There's no escaping
There's no place to hide
You scream, "Someone save me!"
But they don't pay no mind
Goodbye

You're walkin' down a horror corridor
It's almost 4 in the mornin' and your in a...
Nightmare it's horrible
Right there's the coroner
Waitin' for you to turn the corner so he can corner ya'
You're a goner, he's on to ya'
Out the corner of his cornea, he just saw you run
All you want is to rest cause you can't run anymore, you're done
All he wants is to kill you in front of an audience
While everybody is watching in the party, applauding it
Here I sit while I'm caught up in deep thought again
Contemplating my next plot again
Swallowing the Calotapin
While I'm nodding in and out on the ottoman
At the Ramada Inn holding onto the pill bottle then
Lick my finger and swirl it round the bottom
And make sure I got all of it
Wake up naked at McDonald's with blood all over me
Dead bodies behind the counter, shit
Guess I must've just blacked out again
Not again

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

Sitting nude in my living room
It's almost noon
I wonder what's on the tube
Maybe they'll show some boobs
Surfing every channel until I find Hannah Montana
Then I reach for the aloe and lanolin
Bust all over the wall paneling
Dismantling every candle on top of the fire place mantle and...
Grab my flannel and my bandanna then...
Kiss the naked mannequin man again
You can see him standing in my front window, if you look in
I'm just a hooligan who's used to using hallucinogens
Causing illusions again
Brain contusions again
Cutting and bruising the skin
Razors, scissors, and pins
Jesus, When does it end?
Phases that I go through
Dazed and I'm so confused
Days that I don't know who
Gave these molecules to
Me, what am I gonna do
Hey, the prodigal son
The godfather for one
Very methodical when I slaughter them

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

She puts the lotion in the bucket
It puts the lotion on the skin
Or else it gets the hose again

I cut and I slash slice and gash
Last night was a blast
I can't quite remember when I had that
Much fun off a half-pint of a Jack
My last vic and a half
A flashlight up Kim Kardashian's ass
I remember the first time I dismembered a family member
December, I think it was
I was having drinks with my cousin
I wrapped him in Christmas lights
Pushed him into the stinking tub
Cut him up into pieces and just when I went to drink his blood
I thought I oughta' drink his bathwater that oughta' be fun
That's when my days of serial murder manslaughter begun
The sight of blood excites me, that might be an artery son
Your blood curdling screams just don't seem to bother me none
It's 3 A.M. and here I come so you should probably run
A secret passageway around here, man, There's got to be one
Oh no there's probably none
He can scream all that he wants
Top of his lungs
But ain't no stopping me from chopping him up (up)

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')"

As the music begins to fade, Sparky smiles. She feels absolutely ridiculous. When the silence sets in, a solitary applause arises from the back row. She laughs without looking. She knows. A few moments later she raises her eyes to Persy's, staring her down. The clapping stops.

Sparky slowly stands up and puts the microphone back on its stand. She carefully leans forward on her scooter and takes her bow. As she turns to head off stage, she hears whispering again in her ear. It shocks her.

"You make the perfect little play thing, princess. A jubilant jester, indeed. My merry monkey. Dance, darling. DANCE!"

...The scene fades to black in a dramatic fashion! The end.

Sunshine

Sparky says...

Drunk at 5 am after a shitty fucking night. Reflecting. Squabble for the book...


There was never much truth spoken between us, it was mostly bullshit, but that was fine. The truth didn't need to be said, we somehow just knew. The few times we said something profound, though, (and the times were few) it only needed to be said once because we were listening. We always really listened to each other.

I think we both felt a misery. It wasn't exactly the same type of misery, at least not on its surface. Underneath it all, down in its ugly core, we both felt alone. Not lonely, but alone. Even when we were together, we were still alone, on our own separate planets. We simply had a fellow soul to pass the time with. In the dark we were completely exposed, but not apparent to one another because we knew the other wasn't looking for flaws. We already knew the flaws existed, there was no need to scrutinize them. That was the job of the rest of the world. We could be our hideous selves because when it came to the two of us we simply didn't give a shit. It was comforting to be so out in the open and yet still unseen.

Should Old Aquaintance Be Forgot

Sparky says...

The new year has found me very busy and creative. And contankerous. I'm packed far too full with spectacular ideas that one tiny tap on the wrong part of my head is going to send me into some ill-founded mania where someone is bound to get hurt.

I have been isolating myself in an attempt to protect myself and everyone around me from an outburst. I know I can be so irrational at times like this. I feel this overwhelming urge to be alone. Alone with my ideas. I also feel like the key to my success this year is going to be dependance only upon myself. I need to get to know myself intimately again, inside and out. But more I keep dwelling on the sincere feeling that I cannot play nicely with people right now, whether that's fair or not.

I am so fucking anxious it's ridiculous! I need a release. I need to get in a fight with some insignificant person about something even more insignificant. A fight for the sake of a fight! Oh oh, or I need to have some really angry sex, where we both end up sweaty, sore and exhausted, and possibly even bloody. Too bad I ditched Mr. Lemon Pie. I could always rely on him to come through for me when it came to angry sex. He knew just what to say to bring me even closer to the edge of pure hysteria in those moments. It was beautiful...


Perhaps some of my anxiety is stemming from the fact that my pet rat, Niccodemus, is dying. He is just not dying fast enough. He's always been a crazy rat, he killed and ate one of his brothers 2 years ago. He has spent his life in his cage alone ever since, growing even more psychotic and vicious as time has gone on. He stopped coming out of his cage a year ago. He has reached the point now where he has started chewing his own testicles off, an obvious sign that his psychosis has reached a very dangerous point where he is now hurting himself. It is time to put him down, and I realize now I should have done it a long time ago. I'm not sure how I am going to do it, (I have attempted to overdose him on alcohol and muscle relaxers 4 times, but to no avail) but I know it has to be done tonight. I can't go one more night with him sitting in his cage in the other room, gnawing off his manhood because he has become so miserable.

I had a dream about two weeks ago about a giant mutant rat crawling down my hallway. He was at least three times the size of a normal rat, and he moved ever so slowly. He wouldn't stop screaming. It was this awful sound, the sound a dying creature makes. In my dream, Niccodemus ran down the hallway, past the mutant, towards me and nuzzled himself into my clothing. He was so scared. I can't stop thinking about it and how I feel like it is suppose to mean something. I almost feel like it was Niccodemus' way of telling me he is becoming a monster and I am suppose to stop it. Even though I know that is stupid, he is just a rat.

The whole story of Niccodemus is far more significant than just the story of a rat. It scares how much I feel I might relate to him someday, this psychotic little creature. He's probable lonely too.

I think I will write his story. After I kill him.

I've never killed anything. I hope I never have to again. It's too stressful.