Medicated scum

There it goes again. The pathetic looser that can’t get off his ass to do anything anymore. Funny how years have turned this man into the person he dreamt of hating. His long hair all tangled up, the big stomach proof of constant indulgence in oily and non nutritious foods. Just getting him to do something small needs an army of 10 and then he still complains about back aches and how hard he has labored during the day.

He used to be a very creative person, writing poems and novels as if it was his only addiction other than the cigarettes his smoking. He was ok a few years ago and his job has changed him into the Gollum he is today. His job is a depressing affair, working at a very busy newspaper agency. The life there is one big buzz and sometimes if you’re not careful you might skip days and minutes in a blink of an eye. He told me once that he has to find a job that will make him happy but luck has dragged him to the ground more than once in his life. I call it ‘Murphy’s law’. Funny how things happen with a plan. When you’re late there will always be a traffic jam and when you park your car it is just so funny that birds will shit all over your car alone, while there is a SLK parked next to yours.

I never really liked him and I tried to be his mentor and mover trying to explain to him that there is better things in life if he just work harder. He would does shake his head and continue his pathetic life. Tonight it’s me and this lazy scum. He actually said no to a great job opportunity because he felt it wasn’t suited for him.
‘You scum!!’ I shouted and picked up the vase and threw it at him….
It felt good as the vase flew through the air and collided with him with a load shatter. A crack appeared and the mirror falls to pieces on the floor. One day I will climb out of this shell and life again, but for now I will medicate it. Jason picks up the bottle of Prozac and swallowed two.