Saturday, 28 January 2012

Me and Buzz By Bobby Stevenson

It’s Sunday evening with a urine yellow sky and me and Buzz are standing underneath this concrete roof. It’s got no walls. So you’re asking how does it stay up? That’s just what I said to Buzz: it’s so freekin’ crazy.
We seriously need some protection as the rain is hurting. It hits the floor then bounces on to our legs. Man that hurts.
I’ve just had one of those days that comes without warning, the type where for the shortest of short times, you don’t feel down or depressed or nothing like that. I’m like that roof being held up by something I can’t see; again, freekin' crazy.
I love those days but they never make an appointment, so usually I ain’t ready for them; which is a pity, ‘cause if I knew it was coming I’d be standing waiting in some real nice room.
Buzz is talking but I ain’t listening, I nod and smile but for all I know he could be telling me that my bits are on fire. I just don’t listen to anyone but I tell you this, if they don’t listen to me then I get real pissed. You’re saying ‘hey Jay boy, that ain’t fair, one rule for you and another for Buzz’. To be honest with you I can’t really argue that point, it’s like, I was made this way – real selfish like.
I can smell some kind-a meat grilling just floating in on the air and I feel the saliva in my mouth dancing the cha-cha. It’s been three days since we last ate, but we ain’t complaining, no sireee ‘cause up until then, me and Buzz have been the luckiest sonofabitches this side of heaven.
You get sweet patches, it’s in the contract when you’re sliding thru’ that hole of your mama’s. It says sometimes your life is gonna stink and sometimes your life is going smell sweet as…well you decide. I ain’t deciding what is sweet to one man’s nose as he might just say ‘Jay boy, that ain’t what gets me shaking’ and I’d have to agree with him. Ain’t no man gonna tell me what makes me shake.
But if I ran up that hill over there and looked down on my life, well I guess I’d have to say that, all in all, I have had more good times than bad – and that’s the god’s honest truth. May you strike Buzz down if I’m lying.
The other thing I’m thinking is that all you need in this life is one good friend and you don’t need no others – hell, they all end up being a poorer shade of your one friend anyhow. Buzz would die for me -  now don’t get me wrong, I ain’t exactly put that to the test but I would say on balance that if it was me or him, he’d volunteer.
Which makes him kind-a stupid, and you’d be right, because when all is said and done, the best kind-a friend is a stupid one.
I’m gonna stop here but I promise to write soon. It’s just that Buzz is trying to set himself alight.
I didn’t think he’d do it, I kid you not, and hell if that ain’t ten bucks worth I owe him.

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