A MILLION LITTLE PIECES by james frey

Author:james frey [frey, james]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I have an empty bottle in one hand. I have an empty pipe in the other. I am standing on a Street Corner littered with trash. There are shoes hanging from the telephone wires. The ghosts of the rock are screaming. Dealers are hawking their wares. I have an empty bottle in one hand, I have an empty pipe in the other. I'm looking for more.

I wake shaking and shaken. I know I was dreaming, but it doesn't matter. The liquor was real. The crack was real. The ghosts were real and the dealers were real. It was all real. I am shaking and shaken.

I put my arms around myself. I curl into a ball. I think about what is good in my life. I try to occupy my mind. I have been sober for a few weeks. I have friends.

Matty and Ed and Ted. Miles and Leonard and Lilly. I have a Brother Bob. I have some clothes and I have some books. It is more than enough. Roaring pit bulls straining chains. A dead grass yard. Rats scurry across the floor they bite sleeping faces. An empty House no furniture nothing. It is empty but for empty People. The ghosts of the rock. There is smoke in the air mixed with gas and formaldehyde. I am screaming. Screaming pleading begging for more. Give me more please give me more I want need have to have more. I'll give my life heart soul money future everything please give me more. I want need have to have more. Give me more and I'll give you everything. Give me more and I'll do whatever you want. Give me more. Give me more. Give me more. I wake shaking and shaken. I know I was dreaming, but it doesn't matter. It was real.

The dogs the rats the House the People the rock. The great and terrible rock. It was real and I smoked it. I am shaking and shaken. I curl tighter try to think of the good. I have more than I need, more than enough. Curl tighter. Think of the good. Think of the good. Another dream. Another dream. Each time I sleep.

Another dream. They are real. Real.

Another dream.

I am shaking and shaken. I can see light through the window. I stand. I am unsteady as I walk to the Bathroom. I open the door and I fall to my knees and I crawl to the toilet and I am sick. Over and over again. I am violently sick. It is another reminder of the life I have lived. The sickness and the blood and the bile and the chunks of my stomach. Sitting in the water beneath my nose. Another reminder.

I stand up and I step into the shower and I turn on the heat. I step under the stream and I let the water run down and across and over and off of me. I fight the urge to vomit again I am fucking tired of being sick. They were only dreams.

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