. . a n a d a 1 7 7 1 0 - 0 8 - 0 0 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Impotent" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . by Infernal . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sent on my way, locked in a box, kicked out off the curb and into the street rush flying like some kind of dodo bird who tried harder. What? Fuck you. I ain’t crazy, I tell you that, I ain’t crazy. I got the raw end of the stick a couple of times, that's all, and it hurts, it stings like a poke in the eye does, and it makes you feel raw all over after a while, like ground beef on the outside, and everything that comes your way feels like razor burn, when you’re stripped naked and chafed by the shit that people do to you, and the way shit goes down when you’re young and stupid and you don’t realize you’re digging yourself a grave because forever is a word in a foreign tongue, something old people say when they put you in jail, and it makes about as much sense to you as bink bink bink. What was I saying? I ain’t no sissy boy, bud, I ain’t one of them faggots, but I gotta wonder once in a moon pie if you forget how to do, you know, do the do, if you ain’t have had the chance to do it in a while. I mean, it ain’t the same with your hand, you know what I mean, we’re all grownups here, right? Am I right? Am I right or am I right? I tell you something, and if you tell Doug this I swear on the grave of Lyle Alzado that I’ll rip your spine out your asshole, but bucky, I tell you what, I got about one chick friend left in this wadded-up world, and the last time I seen her she gave me a hug, and I about panicked, I totally started to sweat and get weird and wanna go hide someplace, I felt like I stunk and had bugs and puke on my chin or something. I felt her boobies touch me through her shirt and her breath on my neck and I thought I was gonna go nuclear or something, I really did. So what I’m tryin’ to figure out here is, what the fuck am I supposed to do if, God fucking forbid, I ever get naked with a chick again? I don’t even wanna tell you how long it’s been, bucky, but I think my cherry done regrew, you know what I mean? And I – shut up, I’m serious here – I mean, it ain’t even really the sex part, you know? I mean, that shit’s like fallin’ off a bike, rabbits and stuff know how to do that. I’m sayin’ – you know I’m no good with this kinda shit – I’m sayin’ it’s being intimate, and how you wanna be all touchy and hugging and stuff when you’re with a girl. Only I don’t know if I could do it, you know? I dunno if I forgot how or something. Or did I ever even know, you know? Am I just makin’ shit up in my head that I thought I did and I thought I said and I didn’t really do any of it, and all those other times I was just a scared little fucking bunny humping? That’s the kinda shit I worry about, bucky. You wanna know how come I’m not sayin’ nothing and why I’m in the goddamn bag every time I see ya, well there ya go. I dunno, it’s like I feel like I’m growing away from everybody else, you know? Like I used to know people, and care about ‘em, and know what to say when I ran into ‘em and how to be their friends and stuff, but now I can’t even handle getting a hug from somebody. That’s too close for me, the fucking human freak, like I’m mutating into some crippled ugly extinct thing right before my own eyes and I can’t even stand my own stench any more, all sweat and booze and fear. Am I making any sense to you here? Yeah, yeah, fuck you too. Any more beer in the fridge? . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . anada 177 by Infernal (c)2000 anada e'zine . . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .