A List of Things to be Afraid of

A List of Things to be Afraid of

A List of Things to Be Afraid of

By Punkerslut

My psychiatrist always told me that mania is a mental illness.
In my humble opinion, after the many years I’ve spent on this
shithole of a planet, anyone who still experiences bouts of
sanity after seeing the shit that goes on around them suffers
from mental illness. I’ve pushed myself through so much shit
that there’s just got to be some damage to those delicate think
organs. All too often, there would be secret murmurs from a deep
conscience, “just hold through this… one day, things will be
better…” We’re all insane; it’s all really just a matter of
the degree.

Item #1. Never forget… the misery you’ve had to pull through,
like wadding through some shit swamp.

So, I’ve started a list. A list of things to remember. Because,
as hope springs eternal, my little mental notes will one day
fade out; that will just be my brain making room for alcoholism
and disrespectful habits towards my best friends. One day, I’ll
be satisfied. There will be good friends all around, a good
career doing whatever (I ‘unno… I’m thinking mechanic or some
such), and plenty of good times to be had. And, in that future,
that dream I stumble on when I cruise these sidewalks, I imagine
there will be plenty of things I forget. Among those, there is
this: the shitty misery I’ve been through. I’m sure that the
working class proletariat don’t need to be told what my life has
consisted of. Nine to five jobs, those lovely few months of
unemployment when it seems that nobody will hire you,
approximately five hundred “just one more time” heroin uses, a
note or two about love delivered via bar napkin… Poetic, sure,
but misery is poetic. One day, I just want to be 100% sedate.

Item #2. Never forget… when you’re in love, you can’t trust
yourself.

This is a valuable lesson. And, lessons as they are, this one
ought to be valued. Sure, people will tell you, “Yeah, she
fucked you over, but at least you learned from it.” But then
again, few people only learn their lesson when the broken end of
a vodka bottle rips through their face. Wait, I think it was a
gin bottle… Yeah, it had to be. That was her flavor. We were
sitting on the couch, drinking, television, insert typical
setting component. My memory of the incident isn’t too great. I
mostly remember the police officer asking me, “Can you see me?
How many fingers am I holding up?” For some reason, my mind felt
like it had calculated the situation with complete efficiency,
and that the reply I was giving fit like a puzzle piece. “Don’t
worry! I’ll show you how to tape the super bowl… That VCR was
never really good. We were planning on getting it replaced
anyway…” The officer asked me the question one more time, then
called for an ambulence. The last thing I remember, she was
being dragged away in handcuffs, fighting and screaming. I
caught something like, “Fuck you! I never fucking loved you!
This was all your fault!” After that, it’s all blank. When I got
back out of the hospital and came to collect my things (heh),
the neighbor told me: “Yeah, you sort of laid down after she was
dragged away… You kept saying, ‘oh god, oh god,’ and stuff
like that. Oh, yeah, and you started crying and were like, ‘I
just need to lay down, please…’ Man, you must’ve been wasted.”
Oh, that reminds me…

Item #3. Never forget… to get a copy of that police report.

I’m always curious what the real deal was with that. Who the
fuck knows… Maybe there’s a small piece of wisdom I left
behind. Something cliche like, “At 4:30 A.M., the victim kept
repeating the phrase ‘you have to remember… you can do
anything you want to.'” Once I get the police report (I really
can’t afford a page right now), I’m sure that I’ll be
wealthy and with friends, and that little bit of wisdom is going
to go a long way. I mean, shit, it might be something that’s not
so cliche. It might be something practical. I could really go
for a, “Hey, you should really check out this jazz album the
cops recommended,” or something like, “Vodka and beer don’t mix
well.” I’m pretty sure I won’t get something like, “When you’re
in love, you can’t trust yourself.” That is going to be etched
in to my brain for quite a few years. Yeah, that’s not long
enough; hence, this list. Besides, fuck that neighbor. I bet I
held up a little better than he describes.

Item #4. Never forget… you cannot outdrink any of the gang
members from Hell’s Angels.

This, I would like to think, was actually one of the highlights
of my life. I mean, how many people get to talk about the time
they actually got beat down by a motorcycle gang? And not just
any motorcycle gang. The Hell’s Angels. It started with a bar, a
motorcycle gang (Hell’s Angels, yes yes), and five gallons of
cheap vodka. It seemed that I became drunk, beligerent, etc.,
one of them insulted me, and I just swung. Like my past
experiences with violence,

Pages: 1 2 3