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View Full Version : Heroin, My Little Child(Warning-Strong Language and drug references)



alentravorski
August 26th, 2010, 04:45 PM
Ah, the bitter bitter taste in my mouth. A gritty afterglow that leaves you in an unpleasant mood that you can only get out of with a good long drag from a nice little cigarette, loosely sagging on your red lip. The cocaine was wearing off, and my legs started to shiver as they had in Russia, fifteen years ago. An uncontrollable, almost comical shake that left you a bit tired. But that can be solved with a long, smooth, groovy drag of a red. The bitter taste didn't go away, so I figured I'm just imagining it. Why? I never went to Russia.

I stood up, legs dancing without moving, and looked around the boxed room. I love this room... or maybe my heroin loves this room. It tastes great.

I was getting weird, and I needed that red. The life saving sucking stick that gives you hope. I need hope to get out of this apartment.

So I started slowly, moving towards my Lucies, legs dragging in a mechanical, synthetic way. Like they were made by a generic robot corporation, monopolizing their fake robotic legs with fake advertising and fake fucking!

I started to get restless and so did my poor legs. I was two feet away, and I knew it was going to take another two hours until I trekked that far. I decided to see what was in my pocket. Only some pharmaceuticals. It would take several years to kick in. Fuck it. What is two hours to an animal such as myself? Fucking nothing you git!

I reached my cigs, and tore the pack with my ever growing claws. Shit, my lighter was not here. I didn't care, though. The beastly urge made me eat them three at a time. In the wild things start to get rough, and you unleash on anything that gives you comfort. I finished chewing the sticks and threw up. It made me feel better, and I left the apartment.

It was past midnight, and past noon, and past morning. It was nowhere in time. Shit, this is my closet.

I rushed outside, breathing the fresh air, savoring the taste of paper and tabacco in my mouth, fresh with vomit. I looked up into the stars as they danced like African children in the playpen of my mind. The lovely stars give me hope. Just like those cigs. Just like me heroin. I had my kit with me (I snagged the fucker before I left).

I sat down on the curb. It was silent and empty. The street I mean. It took me twenty minutes to inject, and by the time I did it, the benzo's had kicked in, so the high was a lot smoother and the euphoria made me wet my pants. I lied down and looked at the flaming godless stars.

"Fuck me!" I shouted. Two eyes looked down at my twisting body and said, "With Pleasure."

Fledgling Pidgeon
August 27th, 2010, 03:13 PM
Nice story. Despite me not liking the subject, and not being much of a fan of stories without a plot to follow with, it was well-written enough and short enough to keep me going interested. If it had been a bit longer, it may require you to work on some specific idea. One thing that I thought was passed by the story, although I'm not completely certain you intended to do it, is the impression that the character is getting angrier as it goes. I think that's a very interesting concept to work on.

alentravorski
August 27th, 2010, 06:02 PM
nope. he is not getting angrier

Jon M
August 27th, 2010, 06:47 PM
The switch from "Ah, the bitter bitter taste in my mouth." to "A gritty afterglow that leaves you in an unpleasant mood" is a little jarring.

As for the writing, it seemed to wallow in descriptions of drugs. I thought some parts were unnecessary, like this:

I was getting weird, and I needed that red. The life saving sucking stick that gives you hope and this:
monopolizing their fake robotic legs with fake advertising and fake fucking!Lastly, I did not enjoy the story because the narrator sounds disingenuous. There is a lot of telling, and not much in the way of personal insight (which is what I expect from good First Person narrative). This line
The cocaine was wearing off, and my legs started to shiver as they had in Russia, fifteen years ago. interested me. There seemed to be a real story there. Frankly, I was more intrigued by Russia than how the "benzos had kicked in". I wanted to read / see the world through the eyes of this druggie, not be told "the high was a lot smoother".

lector87
August 27th, 2010, 11:39 PM
I agree with everything in the aforementioned post. As a reader that is usually intrigued by stories that center around drug use (not a druggie myself, but fascinated), I found myself feeling the whole piece was a bit forced. The descriptions of the heroin trip seemed generic and more in line with an LSD experience rather than an opiate. Eating cigs seems a bit extreme for the euphoria and lethargy associated with heroin use.

Lines such as
good long drag from a nice little cigarette, loosely sagging on your red lip and
But that can be solved with a long, smooth, groovy drag of a red seemed awkward in their description.

However, I was interested. I think the piece could benefit from a good reworking, adding a bit of direction or character development. I hope there will be a second draft.

alentravorski
August 28th, 2010, 09:58 AM
haha, i took no advice from you guys. everything you mentioned would make the story worse. Not being pretentious here, just realistic.

Sorry, it's that good :P

lector87
August 28th, 2010, 04:58 PM
It's disappointing that you refuse to take criticism or advice on this piece of writing; that kind of attitude certainly won't get you any farther in your creative endeavors.

The piece is obviously a first draft, and by posting it you should be searching for ways to improve the work, not fishing for compliments.

Also, "pretensions" is not the correct word; I believe "pretentious" is what you were looking for.

alentravorski
August 29th, 2010, 01:48 AM
ok thanks I changed the word to pretentious

RM Americano
August 29th, 2010, 08:25 AM
I mean, does succumbing to your addiction actually give you hope?

The Love Whale
August 30th, 2010, 03:53 AM
Eating cigs seems a bit extreme for the euphoria and lethargy associated with heroin use.

See, I thought sticks was possibly a reference to some sort of benzodiazapine at first. Sticks is, at least around here (the northeast), a common slang term for xanax pills or similar medications. But obviously it is really referring to eating the cigarettes. Just a thought, maybe make it purposely ambiguous? That'd be cool, make the reader think they're dealing with a whole higher level of addict eating cigs and all, then flip it around. But either way, as of now it's kind of ambiguous as to why this is happening, unless the point is that he's just eating a pack of smokes, which might bare a little more explanation since it's strikingly odd.

As for the story on the whole, I liked the style, it caught my interest. For a short blurb like this I don't even know if you need that much more character, to me it seemed more like a quick look into a single moment (though if it turned into something longer, it'd need it) and stood as such pretty well. The problem's I saw is that, A. there is a lot of focus on wanting drugs, doing drugs, but not that much of a window into the direct experience of those drugs, they just seem there as something cool to talk about. Nothing about it really reminded me of heroin in particular so while I don't mind the subject at all, it just seemed like a segue into the language and obsessive ravenous tone, which was good, but a bit more focus on the chief subject wouldn't hurt.

ppsage
August 30th, 2010, 04:32 AM
My notes:

So I started slowly; moving towards my Lucy's, legs dragging in a mechanical, synthetic way.
Probably shouldn't be a semicolon with that infinitive phrasing. Comma works. I sort of think no apostrophe in Lucys. Might even be Lucies is clearer.

In the wild things start to get rough, and you unleash on anything that gives you comfort.
Can't make this out. When the wild… ? Or, In the wild, things… ?

It was past midnigt, and past noon, and past morning. It was nowhere in time. Shit, this is my closet.
Midnight. Love this. Best passage.

savoring the taste of paper and tabaco
tobacco

I had my kit with me (I snagged the fucker before I left).
I can't see this voice having any parentheticals in it. Maybe… my kit with me cuz I snagged the fucker...

I lied down and looked at the flaming
I think laid here although lied intrigues. But pointlessly, I'd say.

Fuck me! I shouted.
Possibly, "Fuck me!" I shouted. For consistency with the end?

and said "with pleasure."
Comma after said & capitalize. and said, "With pleasure." Introducing quotation in the last passage might be a bit dicey but I think I like it.

In my opinion this ending leaves the reader only wondering who said that "With pleasure," and this seriously weakens a strong piece.

In community college writing classes one experiences hundreds of drug experience vignettes. This may be among the best I've read. I think you could clean it up some. Just don't make it easy. Then find a place for it in a real story. In appreciation, pp.

alentravorski
August 30th, 2010, 10:37 AM
thanx pp! great advice :) will give a day of thought...