Saturday, April 30, 2011

8. What is "Choice?"

I need some good food. I'm fuckin' tired of ramen noodles. Tomorrow is my court date, So i figure I need to clean up soon. But NOT TODAY. I go up to the roof where some kid thinks its incognito to grow marijuana, and a good handful of buds off of his plant.

The pain seeps away from my leg, and a smile creeps its way onto my face. I'm laughing at the clouds, and pretending they're animals... I feel a rumble in my stomach, *Grrgaowllllll*

Strip clubs have the /best/ hot wings. I order a double shot from this waitress girl. Cute, but a little on the heavy side. Guess that's why shes not dancing... She looks a little down, so I get her a shot as well... I'm eating my platter of wings, and imagining the life of this chicken. Bred to be on this plate. Was i bred for something? I start wondering...

Maybe i was bred to fuck up, and get abandoned by my family... Or is it all my fault? I'd like to imagine its not but in all reality it's probably my fault.... Do I have a choice? The chicken didnt, that's for damned sure... And Im so glad it didnt. Damn I love these wings....

I'm better off than these girls dryhumping a stage, at least... Well, I'd like to think... But really, its their choice, i suppose...

Do i have a choice... That's the 16,000 dollar question right there... I could handle stopping. I think. Provided nothing overwhelming happens and I'm not higher than 30 feet off the
ground...

Back to the wings.. All this "thinking" is getting to me.... I wipe a tear from my cheek.

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