David.

I need some feedback on this, It is my first story and I am only fifteen so i am a litte wary on how well it is written. Constructive critisim is appreacted. It is based on an alcoholic I know.




The golden waterfall, that wonderful luscious nectar, that medicine I need daily and cannot stop even though it kills me. My knees get cold, I cannot sleep, I had to change my diet, but you I cannot give up. Mentally you are my shield, my escape, my recreation. Physically you are my pain reliever, my medication for everything, and my savior from death on a daily basis, but also my poison.
The diabetes’s is what is the most bothersome the cold knees, insomnia, diet change, it is just annoying. I used to eat what ever I wanted anytime I wanted, but you control that now. The doctor said if I quit you I can have my old lifestyle back, but you were in it then also, so it would be missing you. But I am missing everything else.
Then the withdrawals, the doctor said this is the true reason why I need to quit you, but I am not going to get help. I do not need a person who has not even gone through this telling me what to do and try to comfort me as you ravage inside my body, mind, and soul. I can just get you, the medicine I love, and the poison I hate, to keep me going until you decide to take me anyway.
So I will just sit here sipping on you taking my daily recommended dose as prescribed by me and you in steady deliberation. I think I might go over that dose tonight, and steal my life back from you the only way I know how. To die by my hand a great deal more pleasurable than to just hand it to you on a silver platter. Do you hate my rebellion as much as I hate you taking me away from everything? I hope you do.
That glass, that full, fat, round colorless glass. The lavish guest house in which I reside until I am transported, almost instantly, to a more permanent home. The home where I can torture, destroy, burn, and obliterate all to my desire. I have to thank you for the place where I stay, and where I destroy, you being completely aware, and you still do nothing about it. I do help you though, even if it is a temporary way, then I hurt you in a longer lasting way, and still you do not seem to mind.
The diabetes’s is what is the most fun for me, to see you squirm to find a blanket for you’re helpless knees, to make you toss and turn in your bed, to have the power to make you eat disgusting, flavorless and texture less food, it is just so enjoyable for me. If you went back to your old lifestyle like that quack said, one thing would stay constant, I would be there doing the same as I am now.
But the withdrawals, those are the times in which I get intoxicated by the power I actually black out for a change. I get so furious I destroy more than the usual chronic ailments. I go for the vitals; the liver and the heart. I make you chest hurt so much you do not even take me for enjoyment anymore, you take me to live. I am the voice in you’re head that tells you not to get help; I just speak in an accent so you do not recognize me. I do not just ravage, I pillage inside you.
So the daily dose you and me had a conversation about, you had better take it. About the going over that dose, I highly recommend it. You think you will be taking you’re life back, but you will just be giving it to me for good. Anyway you could think of killing yourself you would just be giving it to something else, people never die by their own hands, they just give it to something else, whether it be a bullet, drugs, poison or me, you will never have you’re life back, and that is the bottom line.

The Backward OX

With a title like that you are going to attract all the dirty old men from miles around. What a let-down the reality will be for them.

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Originally Posted by Wildcard
I view with distaste the excretions polluting this site, suffering when I read another by-product of the boredom of one with access to a computer and the internet. As I read I feel I am being defecated on, and cling to an idea that one day I may find solace in the words of one who takes pride in their work.

David.

Lmao. Sorry bout' that.

spider8

Yes, when I saw the golden waterfall I thought 'golden shower' also, so you need to change this. I quite liked the whole of it but it didn't read that easy. I suggest you read it aloud to yourself and every time you slow for that half a second look closely at that punctuation.

Malone

Hmm. It seemed to me like the narrative turned from the alchoholic to the liquor. Is that intentional, or just how I read it?
I think this could be cut down, rewritten, and used for a poem. It gave off more of that feel to me. It works adaquetely as an essay though.
Nice job. I too clicked the title with thoughts of golden showers, but this was cool too.

Frabes

Hate to echo what everyone else has said, but you seriously need to reconsider your phrasing. Otherwise the above paragraph reads...well, not how you want it to.

I couldn't get through the rest of the story, I was laughing too hard. Not at your writing, just at the misunderstanding.

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A Kind of Truth