Hyde in Plain Sight
Blood chemistry shifts and I awake. Something as simple as drinking shouldn't cause another personality to emerge. For me it does. Go figure. I don't understand it either. I'm just glad to be awake. It feels like I've slept forever. Too bad my body and senses are dulled by the booze. Who know what kind of trouble I could cause if I had total control of my faculites?
I take another sip of whiskey. Have maintain control now that I'm at the drivers seat, you know? I won't be able to keep it up forever, but it's not often that I get to come out and play these days. A name? I'm sure I have one. Maybe more of the good stuff will help jog my memories.
Mmmm. The whiskey. I savor it. It brings back memories. Just not the ones I need. "Trouble in a bottle," my other self calls it, Sometimes he actually gets it right, and trouble is just what I need tonight.
The faces around me, half familiar... His half. His familiarity. I've been away a long time. Another few sips of trouble keep me anchored for a while longer. I'm surrounded by half clad bodies wearing too tight clothes. Rolls of fat chafe at the restrictions these poor fools but on themselves. It's such a shame. Most of these goth kids could do much better for themselves if they just learned to dress. Not that I can really say much. It seems the other me needs a few lessons in fashion these days. Why do I have goggles on my head? I really want to know. I catch my full reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Christ! I'm dressed like a goddamned anime character....It's... shiny. If I weren't so happy to finally be let out I'd be absolutely embarrassed.
I really don't know what he sees in these people. They're all so shallow and empty. Vapid faces in vinyl. Even now, I feel his conscience chaining me down. The bartender slides me another drink and I down it in a gulp. At least I can do that much. I'm not strong enough yet. I still can't seem to act on my impulses. I'm confined to a handful of paltry scribbles on the back of a napkin.
He'll find them eventually once we sober up. Thinking them "Inspiration," he'll hurry to type it all up and try to make some sort of story out of it. The jackass.
Got you there, Didn't I, jackass.? Now go out to the store and buy me a fifth. Your old buddy Hyde has a thirst to do some more writing.
I take another sip of whiskey. Have maintain control now that I'm at the drivers seat, you know? I won't be able to keep it up forever, but it's not often that I get to come out and play these days. A name? I'm sure I have one. Maybe more of the good stuff will help jog my memories.
Mmmm. The whiskey. I savor it. It brings back memories. Just not the ones I need. "Trouble in a bottle," my other self calls it, Sometimes he actually gets it right, and trouble is just what I need tonight.
The faces around me, half familiar... His half. His familiarity. I've been away a long time. Another few sips of trouble keep me anchored for a while longer. I'm surrounded by half clad bodies wearing too tight clothes. Rolls of fat chafe at the restrictions these poor fools but on themselves. It's such a shame. Most of these goth kids could do much better for themselves if they just learned to dress. Not that I can really say much. It seems the other me needs a few lessons in fashion these days. Why do I have goggles on my head? I really want to know. I catch my full reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Christ! I'm dressed like a goddamned anime character....It's... shiny. If I weren't so happy to finally be let out I'd be absolutely embarrassed.
I really don't know what he sees in these people. They're all so shallow and empty. Vapid faces in vinyl. Even now, I feel his conscience chaining me down. The bartender slides me another drink and I down it in a gulp. At least I can do that much. I'm not strong enough yet. I still can't seem to act on my impulses. I'm confined to a handful of paltry scribbles on the back of a napkin.
He'll find them eventually once we sober up. Thinking them "Inspiration," he'll hurry to type it all up and try to make some sort of story out of it. The jackass.
Got you there, Didn't I, jackass.? Now go out to the store and buy me a fifth. Your old buddy Hyde has a thirst to do some more writing.
posted by the dime store coyote | 3:09 PM
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