At First Instance

Sitting in front of the towns favorite coffee shop I watch the stone in the wall surround it switch places for a few minutes, have a few minutes of hellishly introspective thinking and then finish my coffee, or latte, or whatever my friend felt like fixing behind the counter. Five o’clock and all is… What the fuck, why is my pocket rumbling. The salvia had worn out minutes ago and I knew there was no reason for it to vibrate unless…YES good, the strange tremors in my pocket where exactly in tune with the strange tremors rippling through New Canaan. You can hear them with the right ears, maybe even see them develop, with the right eyes of course. And I do mean right, in all senses of the word, except for the directional use. Using dead languages rarely heard by mortal man the people walking by would hear something to the tune of
Wait where
Who the
Fuck is that.
Oh her I’ve
Never really ta 

lked to her.
Do you need
Money.
Yeah ill have
Some when
You pick me
Up.
All of that is totally innocent when heard in its broken vernacular but put together would get a kid a whole boat load of shit, ending with a meeting with the school cop. Without digressing to severely Im going to say a few words about the school cop, and cops in general. We don’t need so many goddamn pigs. We really don’t need them on the street, we need them for domestic violence crimes and little else. At most a pig should sit with his trough and catch drunks and speeders. But by no means do we need them patrolling town. If these fucks want to validate themselves they should get themselves a tough beat and work of the DEA or SWAT in LA. Get some experience and retire to New Canaan. There is no justification, well no reasonable justification, for there to be a pig in our hallways.
So the plans are laid and we have a house with jewels and Italian racecars to wreck like the frivolous children of wealth we are. I imagine I’ll be the only kid there who is inheriting debt if my parents die tomorrow.
But to more important things than my problems. Im picked up out front in a station wagon, a mom car, but lo, with much turbo to make up for it. I am encouraged by my friend to try the strange white pills in the dashboard. I certainly agree but what are they. He mumbles some unheeded warning, as I pop both down , but then his tone shifts as he realizes the dosage. This prompts my return to his voice, Did you eat both, he seems to say, that shits gonna go to town on your brain, glorious.
Glorious is a apt way to describe my first wave of insanity as the strange and dangerous drug slams my brain. It starts on the back top of the brain spreading down through the body, stopping only at first introduction of nicotine. This levels me off, the glow in my body that had started so innocent was becoming devilishly potent and confusing. The virtue of nicotine is sorely missed by nonsmokers. The profound yet fleeting calm it gives me lets my mantra echo in my head. Maintain, I think as we pull into the Big House, Maintain.
At first instance of alcohol I have a gulp and as the nausea causes my collapse into a chair I remember Burroughs’ advice, A man on the junk cant and shouldn’t drink. It makes you feel nauseated and uncomfortable. This mad dope fiend is going to do me a world of good. I would go mad if I wasn’t so well versed in this weird trip we are all entering.
A few minutes of thoughtful gathering and I stand up again. Another beatific dope fiends words drip into my mouth. And all the children are insane, thanks Jim.
The rest of the night passes as uneventfully as the first, I level off and can see the clear. Maintain, Maintain, Maintain. Everyone around me is slowly passing their limits, they are wild animals, grabbing the women, fighting the men, vomit caking the shirts of the fools who fell into it. Talk of proms and whose hot echo in the warm cave like garage. And as soon as these sparks where struck, they where snuffed. A mother full of vengeance throws us, the knights of night, out when she is witness to a fight. Damn, I think as I get into my ride to go home, we must all be criminals.