Wasting Away At The 100 Rads Bar: Part 1

Thu, 01/21/2010 — Rev. Ragu


...And there goes another one. Why can't I stop doing this? I'm not even guarding anything here. It's a warehouse full of empty crates and a couple of pipes going nowhere, and here I am, pacing back and forth on this catwalk, trying to look like I'm actually supposed to be here, telling everyone to GET OUT OF HERE. I keep pushing everyone away, and though I want to stop, I don't feel I have any control over it!

I was in the bar one day, stuffing diet sausage in my mouth, downing whole bottles of vodka, miserable, not really having any idea why I'm out here in this irradiated hellhole full of incomprehensible death at every turn, telling everyone who tries to reach out to GET OUT OF HERE, STALKER. So one day, in a fuzz of self-hatred and last night's bender, I told myself that things had to change. I would make an effort to open up and learn to trust people again.

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