jittersmirk {part 1: the grateful wretched} [9/2014]

he began life as something between a leech and a skid mark. leaving a murky tar-hued trail from the womb, horrid and obvious in its designed mordancy, leading all the way down the motherfucking middle of Main St.  streams of shit-viscous loneliness inducing comically eruptive gastric reactions in his wake. none of those prissy cunts knew what hit them. and so, his trajectory of sorrow and stench and vomit continued for several weeks, criss-crossing town like an ignored plague. until fate interjected one bleached-out fall afternoon. when the air smelled like an electrical fire that went sour due to neglect.

a few weeks later, while he was punching in at the local [insert material] mine, he met resistance. the kind that was requisite. it was easy, like pouring honey from a plastic bear, for those around him to recoil from his dissimilarity. and, because he didn’t speak, he wondered if it was his difference that garnered their reticence, or their reticence which garnered his difference.

between three and ten fellow miners cornered him and commenced with the act of bashing him with an amalgamation of words and tools and fists and boots. the specific number of assailants was impossible to discern because discerning such is impossible when one is being beaten to near death. yet, much to the perpetrators’ chagrin, near death was all those cocksuckers got from him. 

a month later he woke in the drunk-tank of the local hospital, his wounds barely held together by Powerpuff Girls band-aids, and his dick floating in a mason jar of amber colored liquid on the table next to his bed. it was only later, when nobody was watching and he could move his arm again, did he discover that the jar was filled with apple juice. not piss, as he was expecting, so he spent the next few weeks both wondering who afforded him such a kindness, and using his good arm to write his epitaph. you see, he was able to find a pad of paper (a Zoloft advertisement crowning the top), and a skinny ballpoint pen apparently forgotten by one of the few nurses in charge of his care.