This happened in English today. Stream of consciousness assignment. Gets interesting around halfway through the third paragraph and structure sort of disappears eventually, along with regard to grammatical conventions. All grammatical errors are intentional.




I flew last night. I am attached and this doesn't matter. I didn't think I could jump 3 feet. Face straight ahead, eyes up, stride 3 2 1 jump land 3 2 1 and into the oxer, a beast of an obstacle, sprawling between the standards and grinning skewed up at us, daring me and the mare. A prime example of my wonderful horse saving my ass. Leg on into it, get your distance or it's coming down and taking delicate equine legs with it. Hands up the neck, long release, tight core, anchor your heels and hold the fuck on.

It's nice to have real cause to be proud of myself. Adam just kept putting that oxer up and Hanna and I just kept coming. I am so grateful to that horse. She puts up with me. As much of a bitch as she might be in the warm-up, she sees the jumps and gets down to business. She knows her job and if I need her to take care of me she can do it all on her own, but when I need to suggest that she do something differently she's right there, listening, ready to respond. It's too early and I miss Beemer to much for us to have any sort of a bond, but I have this immense sense of gratitude for her. She's taking care of me.

Other things happened last night too. I lost my grandma. I feel nothing. Not a thing, except a vague sense of bad. I am ramming the words into holes the wrong shape. She had a nice death, if such a thing exists. I would like to die on morphine. Wait. Fuck that. Maybe that's alright for her but all I can think is how pissed off at myself I would be if I went to sleep stoned and woke up in another universe, and missed the journey there, however painful it might be. I am hoping, so desperately, she didn't mind. But then, on oxy my head is clear. Where is she now? Do you ever get past the hospital bed, the morgue, the box in the cold ground? I wouldn't mind being a corpse and nothing more, as long as I had gone somewhere while I was alive. And I would prefer someone got some use out of me once I died. Death is cold, final. I'd like to die beautiful and have some gorgeous boy fuck my corpse. I know what it's like. I know the ecstasy of lying limp while he labours over you, teeth crashing into teeth, hot tongue forced between my lips, teeth, where else? I know the screaming rapture of being raped, brutally, mercilessly, spit in my face, fucking whore, better take a deep breath. Hands around my neck, pounding blood behind my eyes, head slammed against the wall and hard cock slammed into me again and again, too big, like a punch in the cunt and I'm dirty, bleeding so boldly. "Fuck you" and he slams me into the bed, throws me, hot breath in my ear "No fuck you you cunt." Fucken slut. Spoken so matter of factly with such contempt fucken slut better take a deep breath. Spit in my face hands around my neck and all the while the agony, the sheer fucking ecstasy of being pounded and filled and torn, humiliated beyond belief, all the words stored in the secret corners of his mind slung onto me flung rammed onto me, fucken slut. Or I am a ragdoll, his tongue between my teeth, limp broken-bodied on the bed, odd angled limbs like cables cut, empty wires, cold blue flesh, soggy bleached corpse, skin smearing like wet paper, white eyelashes, pale transparent hair, the suggestion of a bloodshot eyeball creeping seductively from behind creased pressed lids. The smell of formaldehyde sickly sweet - death is easy, death is sexy. Bathtubs full of ice. Delicate veins smashed blood coagulated blackened blossoms under the skin veins veins pathway railway candy veins a shooting chemical glory shot down the passage synaptic cleft like a hungry cunt fucked by the neurotransmitter exhale feel it from your scalp to the bulge in your jeans oh you beautiful boy I'm going to devour you. Catlike, carcinogenic. Chemical utopia. All we need is a bed, a couch, hard concrete to rake your skin bare, to dare to steal from me these pieces of you of your flesh but I'll only fuck you harder to compensate until the black blossoms under your skin and the murky red pounds behind your eyes hands around your throat until you say it, say it I am everything over you and I'll only fuck you harder I want your eyes rolled back I want your skin blue fuck you harder flesh coming off in hunks like soggy paper fuck you harder hands around your wrists snap off in my hand it doesn't feel good fucking you is like a punch in the cunt but it's ecstasy it's only a tool I want you violated humiliated I want you total surrender flesh coming off in my hands blossoming I am everything over you fuck me HARDER.




I always seem to end up somewhere like that.