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Messages - Dr Greenthumb Granger

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Of Gall And Grangers / Re: The Index Case
« on: March 28, 2011, 03:14:47 PM »
Forty minutes. Gigi?s lungs protested at how much she asked of them, tearing through dark streets and puddled pavement, cutting corners and dodging pedestrians. Forty minutes and the jonesing for revenge would be satiated. She could have told Elias she needed longer with Jon?s assailant but she knew the unfortunate truth that came with any desperate desire: once satisfied there?d only be hollow memories and a lingering emptiness. It didn?t matter if she had forty minutes or forty days.  She would have the debt now owed to her paid in blood. It would be glorious and then it would end. In most cases death could only be inflicted once on a person.

She was prepared for the letdown. It was the cost of making sure they could all rest a little easier knowing that the lunatic with an itch of her own for Jon?s head wouldn?t bother them again. These were snap predictions and decisions she made in the time it took for Eli to give her the information. She needed forty minutes because she had one stop to make on the way to the High Street. Gigi accepted that vengeance reaped only tasted sweet for so long but she would allot herself a small portion of time to enjoy it.

There were things she loved and had missed about RhyDin when she was living in Jenli.  One was its anonymity. No one batted an eye at a woman wearing all black racing through the streets. There were so many strange sightings that any one of them alone rarely raised an alarm. The second thing she had missed was the city?s efficiency. Where else could she find a home and hardware superstore open at this time of night? Her one pit stop saw her briskly walking through the well-known aisles to pick up the few supplies she had mentally settled on when she started running out of the Red Dragon Inn. When it came to dirty deeds Gigi?s mind worked at an alarming and precise pace. She took only as many steps as she needed to fill her arms with the necessary wares and pay at the counter. Her hands did not shake when she counted out her coins for the clerk ringing her up nor did she look anxious to get out of the store. She controlled the overwhelming urge to grab her bag and bolt while under the bright fluorescent lights in the very public setting. Faking patience was a skill she had honed when working for Motou while she was still using yola. She couldn?t act like every other junkie when the Jenli drug lord showed up at the greenhouse to see how his valuable crops were growing.

As soon as she was out past the automatic doors and row of shopping carts she took off again now with a plastic bag clutched under her arm. She slowed when she reached the start of the rundown stretch of cheap apartments, cheap liquor stores and cheap brothels collectively known as the High Street. Another beautiful fact about this part of RhyDin was the way most people on the sidewalk avoided making eye contact with those passing them on the street. No one paid much attention to Gigi when she ran up the front steps of the duplex with the red painted door. They all were heading on similar paths of front steps, doors and the vices that waited behind them and so gave her little mind.

When she reached the paint-chipped door with the rusted letters ?2B? barely hanging on it Gigi paused to calm her breath and put her purchases down long enough to slip on her black leather gloves. She picked up the bag again, this time letting the vivid petals of the orange and red spider lilies bought at the superstore obscure her face when she stood in front of the door?s peephole. She cradled the potted flowers in the crook of her arm along with what remained in the plastic bag. This left her free hand to knock twice on the door before disappearing into her pocket to work her brass knuckles over her gloved fingers. It was awkward but she?d take it over leaving too many fingerprints at what was going to be an already messy scene.

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: The Soundtrack of Our Lives
« on: February 19, 2011, 06:54:05 PM »
Yeah Yeah Yeah - New Politics

(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you doin to me?
(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you want from me?
(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you doin to me?
What you want from me?
You're just f@#king killing me!

Everyday people
Attempt to find the ultimate sign
As the kids come down the road of the block
I get chills when I hear them cry
As I picked him up I cleared his eyes
If it ain't worth the try?
In these dying times it's hard to change
You're calling in my ear and I hear

(Yeah yeah yeah)
Now we're falling to the ground
(Yeah yeah yeah)
So get your hands up!

(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you doin to me?
(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you want from me?
(Yeah yeah yeah)
What you doin to me?
What you want from me?
You're just f@#king killing me!

Oh no, officer, please don't draw your guns
I'm on the run it's a state of mind
See these banking corporates fake and whine
They make you live the life they define
Do you even know what's going on?
I don't mean to sound miserable
It's written all along and I hear

(Yeah yeah yeah)
Now we're falling to the ground
(Yeah yeah yeah)
So get your hands up!


(guitar break)

This time around we shall march to battle
And bring victory to the people
Isn't that what you want?
Isn't that what we've wanted all along?
Watch the outcome
I'll give you the outcome!

(Yeah yeah yeah)
Now we're burning to the ground
(Yeah yeah yeah)
Is this the end?
(Yeah yeah yeah)
I guess we'll never wake up
(Yeah yeah yeah)
So get your hands up!

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: Fallout: The Missing Miscreant
« on: February 18, 2011, 12:30:48 AM »
Gigi jogged after Kentaro, catching up with him as he reached the front of the cart and the two harnessed carabaos pulling it forward at a plodding pace. The thin man steering the cart wore a loose sweatshirt and linen pants. He looked like a living scarecrow straight from a Jenli rice paddy to Gigi.

The wide-brimmed hat on the driver's head shielded him from the sun's beating rays but there was no way he missed the sight of caramel and toasted almond, woman and man, Gigi and Kentaro running right towards him. The carabaos' pace was too slow for the driver to slow down without fully stopping. Kentaro reached him first and whistled once. The driver gave one more lash of the carabaos' broad backs with the reins, holding the leather with one hand and removing his hat with the other.

Kentaro caught hold of the cart first and swung himself up to the driver's bench. Instead of screaming or boxing him between the eyes, the driver coolly slid further to the edge of the bench to make room for Kentaro. Side by side the two men could have been brothers, or at the very least, cousins. The reins were passed over first, then the hat.  Kentaro covered his fine hair with the straw accessory and nodded to the driver who worked his way down the side of the cart with a surprising agility.

Dropping down off the cart without falling, the driver made brief eye contact with Gigi as she approached and then passed him. He kept running in the opposite direction. She didn't recognize him. That was nothing new but she always did have to marvel for at least a few seconds over how wide Motou's reach spread and how easily he could obtain new people to fill the shoes left by (or removed from in many cases) the old ones. She tried to take a quick look around the clearing they were cutting through but she only had so much time to execute the next step in the routine setup.

Grabbing onto a rung on the side of the cart she swung herself up to secure her precarious footing on the narrow step beneath the driver's bench.

"Oh, you eat too much today, you weigh us down!" Kentaro snickered, never taking his eyes off the road ahead of him even though he knew exactly where she was. She needed to be quick because the transition from one hired driver to another was meant to be seamless, the difference unnoticed and unremarkable for any one seeing the cart at any point during its route from Mount Yasuo to RhyDin.

"Remind me to kick you in the f**king nuts later." Gigi spit out the threat but didn't make good on it. She was hot-headed but could make the effort to worry about business first, revenge later when the situation called for it. She stretched her arm against the side of the cart. Her fingers pressed around blindly as she needed to hold on so she wouldn't fall. Finally they found the movable panel.

"I'll make sure to do that, little rock monkey." Kentaro took advantage of Gigi's inability to jump him right now for his wisecracks. He knew without looking that she fell quiet for a moment because she needed to concentrate to scale the side of the moving cart and slide herself feet first into the small space left hollow past the open panel. She tucked herself into the snug spot, squished inside the cart next to the valuable shipment of yola that required all the fuss.

"Make sure you go f**k yourself too." She slammed the hatch shut. It was good that it was loud so Kentaro would know she had successfully put herself out of sight to guard the goods. He wasn't convinced he'd have slowed down if he thought she weren't all right and had fallen to the ground to be trampled by the cart's wheels.

Kentaro started whistling loud enough for Gigi to hear inside the close-to-coffin like cart. "This is going to be a long f**king ride." She muttered and tried to make herself comfortable.

Blood?s an awesome thing. When I say ?awesome,? I mean the more biblical definition. I mean awesome the way you talk about a God who inspires wonder, awe and terror all within the same acceptance of his existence?neither good nor bad but everything in between.

In its vital nature blood conjures up all sorts of beliefs and significance. It?s the kind of magic you don?t want to f**k with if you know what?s good for you. Even vampires who don?t bleed themselves can?t function in a world without it.

I understand why we put so much stock in blood but more often than not it drives me up the motherf**king wall. The man who pumped his blood into my veins is the person I despise the most in this universe while a man like Kado, who shares not a single drop with me, will always feel like my father even when we?re so many miles apart. But even I can?t fully sever those blood ties no matter how much I want to, and believe me, I?ve tried.

?Fully,? for those keeping track, is the key adverb in that sentence.  

I miss Kado so much despite the fact that I saw him a few weeks ago before I left Jenli. Holy sh*t was that last trip a disaster. Not the seeing Kado at his monastery part but the rest of it. Kentaro. Talk about f**king blood on my hands.

S**t, where was I? Kado. He?d tease me about how disjointed my thoughts are these days. And for being so angry, which really should be the last two ways to respond to either of those conditions but that?s Kado. ?Kagami, if you fill up with any more steam you will blow worse than a yak with bad gas.? I would laugh too despite myself. It?s hard not to feel more relaxed around Kado. The man?s a Jenlian Quaalude.

Kagami. It means mirror. It?s what Kado calls me, although sometimes he reminds me I?m more of a broken mirror. He says part of what unnerves so many people who circle around me is that I force them to see themselves. I?m some monstrous mix of fun-house and talking mirror. ?The tongue, like a sharp knife, kills without drawing blood, Kagami.? People are wrong to think I?m dangerous if I carry around my switchblade or my knuckles. The danger isn?t that I?ll stick you, it?s that I?ll see you, and in seeing comes saying and then you?ll see the same.

Kado is definitely on my mind, the monk has my inner monologue thinking in f**king tongue-twisters for Christ?s sake.

But the more I think about what went down with Ollie, the more I?m reminded about mirrors. It?s no secret I can be cruel, there?s a certain compassionate light that flickered out the day Teddy died, but I think I?ve always been a mirror. It?s more obvious now because I don?t bother to round out my words, temper them for the situation, honesty with empathy, but even before my brother died I could get under people?s skin. My family took it better back then because, and it?s so hard to remember this part of me now, but I could be sweet once upon a time too. That sounds ridiculous doesn?t it? But I think it?s true. Who knows though, maybe one pill too many will make you remember things that never were.

I?ve gotten over the need to justify my actions to people. That happens when everyone?s ready to stick you in the box they?ve got labeled for you to tuck you away in the attic. Every family needs a villain. You get used to it. But what happened with Ollie is that he looked in the mirror. He was condescending to Cally and throttling Correy on the bar. So sue me, I enjoyed forcing him to stay and confront it instead of letting him leave and cool off. Maybe he would have apologized later but that?s not the point.

It?s easy to deny your ugly parts but we all have them. It?s the people who lie to themselves and make excuses that need to see. This isn?t about me being proud of throwing down with my cousin. I hate that I probably hurt Lola, Jon and Cor with that scene. I know family?s a big deal to them. But you can?t know yourself without knowing all the parts of yourself, both good and bad, the entire awesome spectacle that is you.

My ugly part is that I liked seeing Ollie snap. It made me feel powerful. I pushed him as hard as I could and he broke. He swung at me like Junior used to hit him. He said it, not me.

The part that no one will ever understand is that for the first time in as long as I can remember I felt closer to Ollie. I caught a glimpse of who he was and what brought him to this time and place as he is. I felt like maybe one day I could actually know him as something other than a link in my life I would have never chosen for myself.

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: re: Childhood memories
« on: February 02, 2011, 10:42:48 AM »
Hi - just in case anyone's confused the "Fallout: The Missing Miscreant" is sort of a sub-thread to the larger "Fallout" piece about Caroline's return - I wanted to explain why Gigi wasn't there when Caroline came back! But the events happened in the not-so-distant past.

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: Fallout: The Missing Miscreant
« on: February 02, 2011, 12:09:35 AM »
I am going to f***ing kill him, I am going to f***ing kill him, I am going to f***ing kill him.

Over and over, that was the main theme running through Gigi's head for the last two days though the "him" and the circumstance calling for such roiling anger had already changed several times.

It started the way most real-life dramas started: with the routine and the mundane.  There was no great foreshadowing, no crows cawing ominous warnings to stay home under the covers. Gigi had a job to do and a stellar work ethic.

She had packed enough sundry supplies to last her the week's drive to the base of the Mount Yasuo mountain range stopping just short of the Barrier and its protective wards. The means of transportation were always different - for this week's trip a Ford Bronco had been discreetly arranged for from a Terran dealer located in Badside. Gigi would park the car a mile away from the drop-off site for a hired street urchin to retrieve and return the following day. The poorer the kid, the less questions to answer about the odd job.

Gigi leaned against the black pine tree towering over her dark head and checked her watch. Kentaro always ran ten minutes later than he should. If he weren't such a slippery chameleon, able to morph without any shapeshifting powers into whoever he needed to be to stay under the radar, Gigi imagined Motou would have disposed of him a long time ago. Eventually the loud crunching of leaves and shaking of shrubs announced the perfectly average looking Jenli native's arrival.

"Quiet as a f**king elephant."

"And a good day to you too, Gigi the Giddy." Kentaro spent enough time working with Gigi to all but ignore every snide word she reserved for him. If she weren't so efficient, he imagined, Motou would have disposed of her a long time ago.

Gigi sighed and repositioned herself against the tree trunk. Waiting was the worst part. It took the longest and was so boring for someone who could crave adrenaline with the same maddening intensity she once had for the crystalline derived from the tayola plant's velvety black leaves. Kentaro had his own ways of passing the time. He happily crouched down next to the stump left from a chopped down pine tree and pulled out the small, strangely shaped wooden top he always kept with him. He occupied himself with spinning the top and watching how well it stayed within the rings circling their way out from the center of the stump. When it fell over he picked it up and started again, each time earning another sigh from the irritated Gigi.

"Put that s**t away." Gigi thwacked the back of Kentaro's head, the hair there baby fine and soft. She could see what they had been waiting for for what felt like three eternities. "Bird's flying this way." She nodded to the rickety cart taking it's ever loving time to reach them. It passed over each and every stone, pebble and twig with no increase in speed. Painted on the front were the gently spread wings of a blue rock thrush. Kentaro stood up and started straight for the cart. Gigi hissed at him. "Not so fast, you ass! It might not be safe."

Kentaro rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You keep worrying like that and you'll make yourself constipated." Freely laughing at his own joke and her expense, he gestured towards the open clearing the cart now approached. "I already checked everything out. That's why I was late. We're gold, Gigi."

She should have trusted that uneasy knot twisting up and tying off her stomach right then. Instead, she muttered a few choice and crude words about her associate and followed him towards the cart.

Of Gall And Grangers / Fallout: The Missing Miscreant
« on: January 31, 2011, 08:17:35 PM »
Two weeks ago...

Any message for Gigi had been left to collect dust with the other more cryptic notes slipped into the unremarkable P.O. box she kept for those who needed to reach out? she certainly couldn?t have clients and enemies (not that the two were always separate categories) showing up on her actual doorstep whenever they wanted something. And while Caroline was on her mind, the news of her sudden return sat unread and unknown for days to Gigi because she had left RhyDin and her mail behind.

When the courier slid the letter into the box Gigi was miles away in a greenhouse much larger than her own. It was better hidden too, obscured from view in its rocky perch just outside the village of Onsaki, not far from the dragon claimed by local legend to be slumbering in the nearby mountain peak. This house belonged to Takeshi Motou ? the deceivingly stoic man who had quite rightly branded himself with a surname labeling him as ?the source.? Those who dared to dabble in the darker areas of Jenli and its surrounding villages were seven times out of ten sampling from Motou?s many products. If drug lords held award ceremonies, Motou would have made the short list for a lifetime achievement award for his ability to branch the yola trade from the Mount Yasuo region into RhyDin and beyond.

Seven times out of ten though meant at least one party was after thirty percent of Motou's market. That fact was the main reason that Gigi was in Motou's greenhouse now, not in a position of authority as she had grown accustomed to in the years she spent in Jenli before her recent return to RhyDin but tied to a chair for the second time in twenty-four hours.  At the rate she was going this was becoming a nastier habit than her past addiction to yola.

People generally have such a narrow view of death and dying. I'm not even talking about how we're all dying a little every day (if you're not immortal anyway). I mean death is a helluva lot more subjective than that.
It goes beyond all the physical ways of dying -- death by water, death by fire, by gun, by knife, poison and pestilence, strangulation and decapitation, disease and disaster -- the list is long but not complete. The death of dreams and of the spirit is a far worse fate to suffer. The body only lasts so long but what good is it to have one when you're unable to do all the things you know you're capable of, the things you'd happily strive and sweat for if given half the chance?

The Jenli monks, they teach that Buddha said: "Everything is changeable, everything appears and disappears; there is no blissful peace until one passes beyond the agony of life and death."

Beyond the agony of life and death...

I have to hope that my brother Teddy's in that peaceful place now. I wish he were still here more than anything else but I can see now that even alive in those last few years my father had already started killing all those things that qualified a true life for Teddy. His aspirations weren't the right ones. He wanted to teach literature, to spend his days opening young minds to new ideas contained within texts from all over the multiverse so that they might one day know what path belonged to them. My father sucked all that was good and beautiful about Teddy one disappointed frown, one condescending comment, and one angry reproach at a time until there was little left. Then when he had the obedient son he wanted those fields my father loves so much claimed Teddy for their own. And in turn I found a very different path laid out beneath my feet that repelled me away from the family as fast as I could run down it.

Teddy's light was being extinguished long before the accident. I don't know if I can ever reach that blissful place after witnessing that most ultimate of cruelties but I can pray that he has. He had nothing left to lose.

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: A Granger Family Christmas
« on: December 21, 2010, 12:10:23 AM »
Gigi diverged from Santa's naughty or nice method, not caring which side her relatives fell on as long as she deemed them worth her energy. Those who made that one specific list would have to receive their presents whenever she ran across them. Gigi had no intention of being at Maple Grove for the holidays. That would come as no surprise. Even before she ditched RhyDin for Jenli?s open air freedom she had avoided the family compound like the plague for years. Teddy?s death had carved personal ghost towns out of places and traditions she once held dear.

How fitting then that Gigi?s more recent Christmas tradition had turned into one that took place amongst the dead. Armed with a thermos of hot coffee and a bag packed with oranges and a ham sandwich she made the annual pilgrimage out to Royan Field where Teddy had, like many Grangers before him, been put properly to rest with no expense spared on his monument. She tried to ignore the feeling that guilt had paid for so pretty a remembrance. The one thing her father Thaddeus had gotten right when it came to his second eldest son was the marble carving of the slumbering boy with the strange little smile, particularly the inscription on the side of the boy?s equally hard, cold bed:

Good-by to the life I used to live,
And the world I used to know;
And kiss the hills for me, just once;
Now I am ready to go!

-Emily Dickinson

In death, old Tad finally could admit a shared taste for his son?s love of literature. The thought always lingered there for Gigi but it made her feel no less anger at her father. His meddling and controlling nature ultimately killed Teddy no matter how often the incident was labeled a tragic accident. Gigi knew it to be an unnecessary tragic accident.  An avoidable tragic accident.
Teddy loved the holidays. Gigi loved Teddy. It only seemed right to be with her brother regardless of the cold air; only right to read to him his favorite Christmas tales in the waning winter light.

Of Gall And Grangers / Re: The Soundtrack of Our Lives
« on: December 13, 2010, 07:53:02 PM »
This is a lot of the original inspiration for Gigi (or for at the very least my username):

Dr. Greenthumb
by Cypress Hill

[a short skit opens the beginning of the song]
Hello, I'm Dr. Greenthumb
Have you ever had the problem of running out of weed
and just can't find some anywhere?
Well try my Dr. Greenthumb grow tips
I'll show you how to grow inside and out
From seed to clone, and the best homegrown
And if you're afraid of those pesky pork choppers in the sky
No worries, we'll fix them too
with one of our Dr. Greenthumb 'Sizzlean' screens
to block the nosy pig's vision
Don't believe me?
Just ask one of my many satisfied clients here Jed Sanders
how well it works

Hyuh, hyuh, hello my name is Jaid
And I'm a farmer and I've been growing
Mary-jah-wana fer about twenty years and uhh
uhh, with Dr. Greenthumb's 'Sizzlean' screen
I don't have to point my shotgun
at them pesky porkers no more
Thanks Dr. Green, you're the s***

Yes, Dr. Greenthumb's got it all, I guarantee it
Try my book and you'll have the chronic in no time
[lighter flicks] Dial 1-800-713-GROW
[inhaling noise] That's 1-800 (cough cough) (inhale)
[lighter flicks] 713 (cough cough)
G (inhale) R (inhale) O-W

"Hello Dr. Greenthumb, paging Dr. Greenthumb!"

Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb
I'd like to tell you just where I'm from
In the hills where the trees grow wild with weed fields
The ****ing pigs with shields holding the blue steels
Greenhouse effect with the weed connect
(Doctor) DEA can't keep Greenthumb in check (Doctor!)
HPS, God Bless the whole crop
Please God, don't let me see no cops
Trunkload, ready to hit the highway
Don't let the eye in the sky fly my way
or we gonna have big trouble, that's no s***
Can't be growing without no permit
but **** that, I study the 215 trip
That way when they come they can suck my dick
Weed can't grow without attention
Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb


[B-Real] Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb
[SenDog] Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb!
[B-Real] I'd like to tell you just where I'm from
[SenDog] Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb
[B-Real] Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb
[SenDog] Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb!
[B-Real] I'd like to tell you just where I'm from
[SenDog] Aiyyo Dr. Greenthumb, come on back one time!

People can't live without the herb man
If not they'd be drinking and driving and swerving
but thanks to Dr. Greenthumb weed grow
in the backyard or inside with hydro
To the cush plant brushing a tangerine dream
Tasty, blowing a ****ing smokescreen
Cycles of weed are constantly grown
Somebody give me the razor to cut groves
I'd like to stop, but it feels so good
Horny plants stinking up my whole neighborhood
Sticky angel, I wanna leave it alone
but never ever ever gotta worry from my home
What that funny sound knocking at the door (Open up it's the DEA!)
Sorry Greenthumb can't talk no more
Please don't follow me into the sun
Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb

[Chorus 1/2]

Out from the lab, no need for rehab
If I can't drive then call me a cab (taxi!)
In my closet the weed is dried out
Like Eiht said, ain't no place to hide out
I don't wanna buy no weed from no cop
Get knocked up and they close up my shop
That's why I buy no weed from no one
That's why they call me Dr. Greenthumb
The scientifical, mystical one
Growing my crops with the rays of the sun
Come one come all and see how it's done
If you see the pigs there's no need to run
Cause some of these pigs are down with Greenthumb
But you never know what be the outcome
You see the photo in the album
The weed is growing like my erection
Look I never told you where I was from
Some call me Real, but I'm Dr. Greenthumb


Dr. Greenthumb
Doctor, your Bulova plant needs special tending to
Doctor, we need more oxygen we need more CO2
Doctor, Dr. Greenthumb you're needed
Doctor, dahyahahahhh... Doctor

(This is the video for it, though it's censored)

They call it sliding because that's what you do, you slide, but not quick like a water park ride that shoots you down and spits you out into chlorinated pools. No, this kind of slide is more lazy river slow, slow the way you'd like to imagine it was back when you were born, when you drifted down the birth canal except here there's no violent noise, no glaring lights in your face and doctors smacking and probing you for signs of life when you hit the other side. Here on yola all you have to do is slide deeper into a dark pool of you.
You're the whole world. There's nothing but space and you but you're warm, so warm, it feels like you're wrapped up and cocooned in violet-velvet petals, the black-purple leaves with their wide veins wafting sweetly below you. Maybe they're singing a song without sound to you. It's a little different for everyone.
I heard bells the first time. Heard's not the right way to describe it. I was inside the bells, every one of them, tiny as they were. I rolled endlessly around inside. They were spherical bells, suzu bells, and the metal felt as cool and refreshing as the word's meant to sound tripping off your tongue.
There is nothing and everything. You drop further and further away from the space where your eyelids have closed. Maybe your eyes aren't closed at all but it feels that way. I knew a guy; one time when he was sliding he made the mistake of leaving his fifth story apartment window open. He made the mistake of sliding and being human. Humans aren't meant to fall out of apartment buildings and live to tell the tale. But, that's the price you pay for a few hours of perfect harmony.
That's a lie, really, there's nothing all that perfect about it. Not after the first time.
You can never slide so far, so swiftly at a soothing pace, ever again. You'll try and you'll fail. But you won't stop trying until you're dead. And you'll be sad when you're dead because you imagined dying would be like that first time you tipped the needle against your skin.
The sickest part, in my opinion for what little it's worth, is that you will do all these things being fully aware that staying on this path will always drop you off a cliff. You'll do it regardless because something that's happened along this way we call living has pushed you on a quest even more obsessive than sliding. To feel numb, to escape and to dive away from everything and everyone in the world that's ever hurt you. It's next to impossible to ignore that need.
But Gigi, you say, how can you know these things and live to tell the tale (unlike that poor bastard who learned too late to close his apartment window first)? It's got nothing to do with morals or seeing whatever light you believe in. I stopped because I?m greedy. You can't make money if you're using all your product. Quitting was just good old fashioned business sense. My father would be proud.
That doesn't mean I don't think about it every day. It's like having an itch in that space between your shoulder blades, halfway down your spine, and no backscratcher in sight. I spend so many minutes of my life actively deciding not to grab every last thick ounce of that black pudding in my greenhouse and shoot it into the first vein I can find. If it weren't for greed and vengeance I'd be slumped over a toilet somewhere, bloated and dead. How d'ya like them deadly sins now?
So Gigi, you respond, how can you sell something you know is so awful to people's sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, cousins, husbands, wives, mistresses, third cousins twice removed and so on down the ties that bind? You've seen junkies willing to mug their own grandmothers for enough cash to buy them one more ounce. How do you sleep at night when you're peddling death one injection at a time?
I can sleep because I know it's not such a cut and dry issue. Sorry if it sounds clich? but it's entirely gray. I won't condemn someone who wants to disappear. It's their choice, their right. If I stopped selling it they'd get it from someone else. Maybe they'd get it from someone more willing to screw with the quality and dilute it to make more money with greater quantity. It doesn't matter. You can't condemn them without knowing what it feels like to burn for something so badly, whatever that something is.
Maybe it's not right but the only person who'll ever be able to convince me to stop is me. And I'm a stubborn bitch.

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