Indeed, the destruction of the rules here is appropriate. Rules aren't necessarily made to be broken--rules allow us all to communicate in the same language and understand each other. But when it comes to adrenaline, ecstasy, euphoria, the pits of despair--well, the rules can go screw themselves cos there are more important things to tend to.
I think something along those lines is what you mean
and of course Miguel has what you need. an eternal line of cocaine. an untarnished length of snow that could keep one awake forever. the amount of work that could be undertaken under the influence of it all beggars belief. they should give this shit out in schools. they should give this shitoutinofficestheyshouldgivethisshitouttopoliticiYOU SHOULD KEEP THIS SHIT to yourself. and snort.
Great tangent.
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go on. you horrible, terrible man. it was God who hooked you up in the first place. if that's not a sign I don't know what is. he clearly wants you to have this. this powdered pain, dust of despair, he wants you to have it.
all of it.
go on. not one gram is saved for anyone else. he's made you his trash receptacle. for the greater good. you have all the coke and nobody else gets addicted. snort the shit. God wants you dead. you're saving lives through lines.
don't take it the wrong way though, it's a case of simplicity. you die and everyone is better off; not because you died, just because you're dead. understand?
I also like the twisted logic that barrels down on the addicted. I enjoy that you didn't just go the route of "It's good, it's so good, I'm addicted" and instead it's, "Should I be doing this? I can't stop doing this. It should be fine. I can't stop."
I don't know, there's not much to critique about this. My only thought is that this is more like a poem than a short story. Perhaps that's what confused people. One comes to the short story section looking for a plot and characters. But this is just a two-step with an infernal voice bellowing emotions.
The only thing I might critique is that the druggy is a little bit too minor of a presence. All we know is he wants to be an actor and does things on camera for coke. He only gets one line:
b-b-but what about my career?
so he feels more like a device than a person. Perhaps I want to feel at least a little bit of his despair, instead of purely hearing from the commanding coke voice.
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Reviews: 245
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