Saturday night

IT's time. Go get ready, take a shower, choose what to wear, take a swig out of the hipflask,fag in mouth and away we go. Away to our island's night mecca.

The streets already filled with kids, which with each passing year seem younger. Girls with miniskirts, heels and face painted with make-up. Boys the girls age, trying to look cool and macho in their converse and Diesel jeans. All of them eyeing each other up, looking at future victims and conquests and notches on their bed post. As I wade through them I feel old and wrinkly. I touch my forehead and try to find the imaginary wrinkles.

Next stop - the liqour shop. I finf myself engulfed in these little kids again. I pay hurriedly for my bottle and I run away. I find a dark corner of the street and I start drinking. I drink and drink. I'm seeing everything in a much brighter light now. I try to get up but I stumble and fall flat on my face.

I get up and make my way through the sea of people. I stop abrubtly. I have just seen a vision. Her face is bathed with white light and her delicate features were highlighted. My heart skipped a beat. Slowly I made my way to her. Her eyes met mine. Oh wait. She is just looking through me. Who can ever look at me?

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This monster is inhabiting my soul and skin. This monster. This demon .But he is part of me. So killing him is like killing part of me. I cannot live like this but I cannot live without him either. It would be like cutting out a limb or an arm.

This quiet desperation is taking hold of me. I feel like drowning but I no longer offer any resistance. I just let it be. It is all useless anyway. No one would know the difference. No one would miss me and my annoying and disgusitng little tendencies. I wouldn't even miss myself. I would be glad that I'd be gone, because the world would be a bit better.

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How could anyone ever look at me? Who could ever love, or even tolerate me? That is why, when I see that the angel is coming over to me, I hurry up and disappear through the crowd.