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a new way of looking at... writings >> shannon kuehn >> the addict's narrative |
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Have to find it, need it agitated as the hours pass without a phone call, waiting. The long day grows longer as the fingers drum a silent melody on the telephone book. The ring startles, then the ringing, piercing through the thick silence. Slowly regaining composure I reach for the phone... I answer. On the corner, between here and there not particularly caring, just waiting. Watching those that pass, noticing calm conduct. Checking the watch, checking it again Restlessly expecting making sure the time reads correctly. Rubbing the jittering hands over the creased bills, tracing the finger over Franklin's face, awaiting in eager anticipation and then nothing. Giving up at half past eleven, the clock on the old church chimes, reaffirming the fact that it is well past the agreed time. I have to try somewhere else. Angered and frustrated. But why? Because I NEED it... like air, to breathe in - exhale out. To make sense of this senseless world to dream on toward a euphoric bliss... to not have to deal with those who do not understand. Because I NEED it..GODDAMNIT! |