Mary Jane

Im sorry, I couldnt finish this, lost the train of thought or Im not too sure how it should end...feedback is still appreciated though.


Ive been meaning to put this up for some time now. I dunno, I guess Ive been a little concerned as to how some of my audience may react to this- im not a preacher or a doctor, and i sure aint no activist. Im just a girl trying to explain how i came to know another 'girl' , lets call her mary jane.

See the prospect of her seduced me right from infancy. As a growing person the idea of immersing myself in her flavours and vapours were the substance of my subconscious fantasy. And as I grew I knew the amount of social stigma attached to those who blew her blue-gray fumes so I convinced myself to focus my desires on things higher- people relations and school.

But after a while people stopped being worth relating to and the things I thought I knew turned out to be 80 percent untrue so the higher things I was aiming to, turned out to be the reasons I would turn to the one thing I had tried to factor out and reason, the one thing I had chosen to disbelieve in.

Because the good people died, the true people lied, the nice people either forgot I existed or stomped on my pride. God became abstract, the books- fuck that. My mind turned against me, my friends seemed to hate me...and she was always there, watching, waiting patiently.

I remember the first time we kissed. Her flavour in my mouth, filling my brain, Id never forget this. sitting in that dark corner with just me and my love, I met her alone because I was too selfish to let others enjoy what we'd have. Also I was scared, because behind the tough girl act was a little child who was so unprepared to take this first step to a lengthy commitment. Who barely had what it takes to develop such an involvement.

That first hit was not enough, loving her took time. I had to dedicate emotion and effort into finding her nuances, her little delicacies. absorbing her essence until i BECAME her intricacies. and I thought I had control of the relationship, I was the man. Id decide when we met, how long we'd stay together. But like every relationship propinquity developed into a necessity, and it didnt take long before she started controlling me. My weekend fling had started looking like a forever.

And we had our fights, some days i didnt want to intercourse because i knew fornication isnt right, but she would stand behind my mind with no clothes on and emanate her perfume until my brain was clouded with the smell of her and i had to make it a physical reality, and in the recesses of my mind i still didnt realise she was controlling me.

our relationship was bipolar, how she took me high and brought me so damn low and get me hot, solar. and i could float and orbit around planets, she was my plane, my rocket, my hammock. she put that smile on my face that no one else could erase, and i began to yearn to close my day so i could see her face.

Mary Jane.

the sound of her name, i supported her causes, invested in her charities. I knew all of her sources, she never had to find me. slowly but surely, she began to define me, my thoughts, my actions, it was like she had the blueprint of design 'me'.

Mary Jane.

I tried to get away, she convinced me to stay. never a demanding lover, but her opinions held sway over my decisions. Slowly real life began to look a lot more like fiction, first a comforter, then a friend, and then an addiction




Id like to explicitly state that all my works are works of fiction, and have no correlation with any person, either living or dead. Any such resemblance or similarity is a matter of coincidence.
Thank you