MY JUNKIE DREAMS NEVER END IN SHOOTING UP
Christian Bodney
I wake up glad to not be strung out.
I wonder how my drug dealers are doing.
I wake up glad to not be strung out.
I wonder how my drug dealers are doing.
-Editor at a literary journal attempting to be good, moral ppl (see: 1990s Christian Right)
I never wanted to run this ship. Frankly, I’d rather spend my time writing.
Now I bake bread to stay busy, to not think about dying.
He tells me he bought an ex girlfriend a $500 original copy of The Bell Jar. I say oh wow.
Hello,
the worst thing about stopping Ambien was that I never did it with anybody else.
I did it alone in my bathtub.
I did it alone, smoking in the water, & when it kicked in I’d let the
As soon as I looked into the faces of my fellow classmates, I realized that we all arrived here by the same road. The most enthusiastic people had their cameras turned off.
1.
Remember when you would sit on the floor of my lavender painted room when I was 15 and you were 21? You’d twirl a dreadlock around your finger looking up at the wall of Teen People Magazine
The other day she showed up at André’s apartment in the middle of the night with a red rose and, in the bottom of her purse, a steak knife...
a monstera I brought as a housewarming gift; bookcases betraying a brilliant, associative mind—the LOTR trilogy, a chess board, tomes on capitalism and ecology, The Power Broker, an anthology of gay poetry, more Caro books on LBJ, a poetry book I’d gifted atop the dusty shelves
It’s 2018 and my husband and I are on the couch, watching what will end up being the longest World Series game in history— 18 innings, seven hours and twenty minutes. The Los Angeles Dodgers are
Maybe it won’t work for you. Maybe you are too smart, or too cemented in your physicality. Or you’ve run your brain through more powerful substances than I have. But if you want to try to leave your
We rely upon these narratives, asking them to explain away uncertainties about why we are the way we are, about how we have come to be in the world just like this. We ask them to prove to us that we have been here at all.
I worried I had magically bloated between 9 a.m. and lunch time, even though I’d only eaten the prescribed six saltine crackers.
A river coursing with so much life it broke through the surface. I liked that.
S and I were together nearly a year before the band really got back on the road. Their six-week tour started in Minneapolis.
We’ll leave your hair for the birds, she’d say, so they’ll build their nests to keep themselves and their babies protected.
What is my obligation in this moment? Is it to my body or to my daughter’s?
I couldn't fully recall the Simpsons episode in which Marge buys a near-identical pink Chanel dress.
I was a glamour upon a glamour upon a glamour, a mouth devouring a mouth devouring a mouth.
Imagine being so famous and blonde that people love you so much they hate you again.
I will feel like a bad country cover of a Kate Bush song.
> One of my favorite reading experiences was a book called "The Silent
> Woman" by the journalist Janet Malcolm; it was about the biographical
> treatments of Sylvia Plath and the impossibility of biography in general.
The stench of my high school ID lanyard hung around my neck like a noose for the rest of the school year, reminding me of my capacity for self-destruction.
Who could trust those colors? Smears of scarlet molting into pert lavender.
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!