I had a dream last night. More of an impression. I was happy, I saw somethin', my reflection, I think I looked like a hero.
Now I'm in front of my bathroom mirror, I look like hell. I think my veins look worse today. Like gasoline flowing through cracks in asphalt.
I think I giggled a little, 'Speedy: the heroin addicted road'. I'm forgettign the dream, it slips out my dear ducts, and out of my mouth into the toilet.
I raise my head, wipe a fleck of vomit from my lip, I wanna ride the white tiger*, and feel
like a hero**.
I sit down in a big red armchair, carefully remove the box containing self esteem from the drawers next to me.
I open the lid cautiously, so afraid of breaking the door to my escape. I tie a strip of rubber around my arm, anticipation clouding my mind.
As I shoot up, I imagine the drug flowing through my veings, a white light that consumes every ache, every worry, every fault.
I am smiling.
It's so strange, I feel like I'm going to cry. My chest tightens, and my breath hitches. I think I'm happy but I watch myself, like an observer, as I fall on the floor sobbing, I think I feel happy.
I had a dream last night. I saw my reflection, and I looked like a hero.
* riding the white tiger is sometimes used in reference to doing heroin.
** the word 'heroin' is derived from the greek word for hero, because of its effects on self esteem.