I was outside a convenience store, a rather grimy one at that, and an angry kid with an open wound spoke to me cathartically. He told me about his recently ended relationship. He told me about he was ruined and destroyed. He spoke in a harsh and cynical tone, and he spoke about 9-and-one-half months as though they were 9-and-one-half years. He spoke about how her scent makes him weep, how their music makes him wallow, and how normalcy is no longer a reality. He told me that for the first few days he wanted to kill himself but a syrup called Dextromethorphan kept him calm and kept him collected, and he told me that she was his only purpose in life. He told me that he wanted to get over this but knew he couldn’t because he loved her, even though she swallowed an alien’s seed and she sniffed a synthetic serotonin - more commonly called crank, or meth. He told me that in spite of all his attempts to repair this damage, he couldn’t and no longer would try because it took too much to do so or to try. He told me he wasn’t strong enough - or that he was just a weakling. He choked on his spit when he spoke, and in the frequent social pauses his eyes were glassy - glistening with saline. He was jagged, shattered; a windowless pane of a person.

I, being the only one outside the convenience store, spoke to this angry youth acerbically. I told him to chin the fuck up, kid, and to stand up tall. I told him that he was young and shit happens and we all get shafted and we all get shanked. I told him that women are bitches and bitches are dogs and therefore not people and deserve no rights and I told him that she was nothing - a fine example of a vicious and vindictive person with little emotional recourse - a sociopath - - and I told him that he over-glorified her persona because he was a pathetic, angry, lonely dude with hygiene problems and little class. I told him that he was wrong for putting her on such a high pedestal because you can’t take something off a throne like that. I told him he was wrong and had no right to feel that way, and if he didn’t believe me he should fight me, because I was right. I told him drugs were bad, women were evil, and that exercise releases endorphins so he should go lift weights. I then left.