baby born mit in die badewanne
i think alison have been screamingall day but i hadn't really register before she might been screaming for a week for all i knew it had been days since i heard anyone speak though someone must have saidsomething in all that time surely to fuck,someone must have. - allison!- help me, please! calm down! everything's going to bejust fine. nothing could have been furtherfrom the truth. in point of fact, nothing wasgoing to be just fine.
on the contrary,everything was going to be bad. bad? i mean everything was gonna beeven worse than it already was. fuck it wasn't my baby. she wasn't my baby. baby dawn, she wasn't mine. spud's? swanney's?sick boy's? i don't know. maybe allison knew. maybe not. i wished i could think ofsomething to say, something sympathetic, something human.
say something, mark. fucking say something i'm cooking up. cook us up a shot, rents. i need a hit. and so she did.i could understand that. to take the pain away. so i cooked up,and she got a hit. but only after me.
that went without saying. well, at least we knewwho the father was now. it wasn't just the babythat died that day. something inside sick boywas lost and never returned. it seemed he had no theory with which to explain a moment like this. nor did i our only response was to keep on goingand fuck everything. pile misery upon misery,heap it up on a spoon and dissolve it with bile, then squirt it into a stinking,purulent vein,
and do it all over again. keep on going, getting up,going out, robbing, stealing fucking people overpropelling ourselves with longing towards the daythat it would all go wrong. because no matter how much youstash or how much you steal, you never have enough no matter how often you go outand rob and fuck people over, you always need to get upand do it all over again. sooner or later, this kindof thing was bound to happen.