There's a couple of drunk young folks right behind me. One of them keeps on flipping the bitch word, her metro-friend seems to enjoy the attention. Their fallback guy just turned the volume up on his gangster hiphop beat from his customized boombox inside his car, all while the other two ladies make out at the back.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Guess not. I'm just a local nerd, sipping float at Ronald's place, trying to get my minutes up. I'm here, trying to keep my peace, until these bunch of ecstasy-infused degenerates came and spoiled my solitude. I'm guessing that's vodka and french fries that the other girl threw up on the floor, while the fastfood store is now contaminated with that cheap face powder smell.
I can't think straight. I was able to earlier, but now my mood has swung from "McGyver-inspired" to "Killing in the name of", and to top it all off, Old Kaji is arising. Just one more nudge, and I'll ruin their cosmetically-enhanced faces, burn their piece-of-shit-they-call-a-car, get their wallets and purses, and step on their entrails. I'll put some swagger on my walk while I'm at it.
Oops. Too much typing on my Aino lost me my chance. They turned tails and left. Shit.
When will fate let me exact my just fortune? When can I get myself rid of my subconscious attacks on the world? How can I live my dreams without sacrificing the ones I cherish and love?
I know of only one who can help me. But unless that which I cannot name cannot, then I fear that I would again be lost. All I have is this year to make things worth the life I've spent. But if not, then that's just three miles from the rest stop.
I might become that lost oar again.
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