following a prompt: because its midnight and im bored i was messing around online and found a prompt in some sort of writers workshop forum or something, so here goes nothing:



i was reaching for my who knows what number (and who is counting), glass of whiskey when I realized she is probably asleep. i take a drink and realize why it was so cheap, and my god it's dry. good thing that i have water (which i dont normally drink for the simple fact that fish fuck in it) and ice. i look back over, convinced I'm right about her being asleep on the couch. yet she is the one that begged to watch house, we are somewhere in the third season, but im listening to some bizzare pandora station in my headphones as i type and drink. as long as she wakes up and goes back to her apartment (one down from me, imagine that) i don't care if she is asleep, it gives me a bit of peace to try and write and drink, which i often doubt i am any good at, writing that is. i am fortunate at this time that unlike one of my idols the late Hunter S. Thompson, i do have some taste for honest labor, yet i share his distaste for poverty, so i try to avoid it at all costs.



Back to the whiskey, and my neighbor, the whiskey is from a local company famous for its cheap vodka, not that their whiskey is expensive, i may have paid 15 dollars for 1.75 liters, but it is still better than some of the fucking swill the canadians are passing off as whiskey these days; black velvet and purple bag crown royal are horsepiss compared to even a bottom shelf bourbon, or this blended whiskey, whatever it wants to call itself. my neighbor is from a town about 20 miles from where i live, went to school with my cousin, and anymore background would be my guesses and unimportant drivel.



to be honest, sometimes she is the bane of my life, not for any particular reason, but simply because she is there. It is a strange thing though, to occasionally loath someone who gives you zero reason to do so, she occasionaly cooks, often cleans, and generally does as i ask, which is greatly appreciated. Yet some days i want nothing to do with her. conflict perhaps thy name is self.



...



i decided to take a break to smoke a cigarette and have a shower. im getting very tired of the cigarettes i bought, some terrible brand that is only stocked on the nearby indian reservation, or perhaps settlement, i forget what they insist it is. whenever i shower it demonstrates the extent of my habits. before i moved into this godforsaken apartment i would occasionally enjoy a cigarette in the shower, now i just bring the whiskey with me on heavy nights. Tonight is of course, a heavy night. i have been off call since wednesday 0800 i have been celebrating that fact each night since.



the shower is, at least these days, a place of solitude and reflection, a comforting zone of warmth and music so long as it is playing, tonights selections were a george straight tune and some pop-hiphop song that my neighbor who is asleep on my couch insists i listen to as much as possible. as upon my exit i splashed on some aftershave that in the bottle smells like concentrated old man, but once applied opens up to a mildly floral musk.



Once again, back to my neighbor, i touched on her earlier, but my mind demands i return. She is of a strange breed, she seems to think i am killing myself with the drinking and smoking, yet encourages them at the same time. we know eachother intimately, anyone who has seen us interact knows that, or at least assumes as much. the good doctor says we often argue like an old married couple, but she says the same of me and the doctor, so who knows. currently i am amazed that she is so comfortably sleeping, she did not work today as far as i know, and aside from the times she was in my half-hearted embrace i have rarely, if ever, seen her fall asleep, so why the drowsiness? more importantly, is this falling asleep routine better than the "come lay with me" script she typically follows? i shall leave that question to the whiskey that i have poured another glass of.



she has finally departed, i woke her up after the episode that was playing when i exited the shower ended, some half baked story about an overweight overeater with a disease that takes a week to diagnose and cure, which does not surprise me, i had to diagnose my own lactose intolerance; and i have faith in my doctor! anyways, she kissed me goodbye and i put on a fake chinese/asian accent and half shouted "bye bye roundeye, careful of 'chicken'!" as is my tradition of the last few days.



i have started listening to interviews of people i admire, and perhaps i will do so until i pass out or fall asleep. I may start reading stephen king again, I am three books in to his dark tower series, and the half cowboy half sci-fi hero mystique intrigues me.





Author he likes whiskey and cigarettes, a self proclaimed drugless hunter s thompson, rex swayzee delivers.

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