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06 April 2005 - 22:19


Don' think I like it, cuz I don't. Hells, I don' think ANY of us like it, 'cept fer those two. Jack ain't even aware of it, I don' think. Piojo hates it wit' a passion. That is, if he can feel passion fer anythin'. Then why in the FUCK do we keep doin' it?!

Aw, f'rget it, dawg. I means, I know I LET dem two do it jus' so they can get it over with and we can move on ta other shit. More important, productive shit. But I's still hate da taste it leaves in my mouth. It's worse than dat aftertaste ya get from cigarettes. In fact, I feel like smokin' now, jus' ta get that damn taste outta my mouth. But it's more on da lips. Anyhow. It also makes our hands stink. I don' like da way our fingers smell. It's gon' make us all sick someday, too. But I still let 'em go at it. Why? *shrugs* I guess it's cuz I's care 'bout Yang, dat's why. Polla can go fuck herself--ergh. F'rget I's said dat. *mutters to self* I jus' know it means somethin' to the guy, even if it sickens the crap outta me. An' well, we all's gotta make compromises. The Prophet gets sick everytime they do it-- an' I mean it literally. It jus' goes away fer a while, jus' kinda fades into a corner an' sighs to itself. Then Piojo gets mad. BB jus' ignores it, faces away or gets outta da Closet. In fact, most of us do. Except Gis. She stays sometimes, even if she doesn't want to, an' jus' stares, wide-eyed like she's seen this shit too many times. An' that's jus' plain nasty, ta do that to the little thing. Like I's said b'fore, Jack don't notice anythin'. We take him outta da Closet wit' da rest of us, an Svl shows him pictures, or Grizz reads him stories or sometimes he's asleep an' don't need none of it. Blegh. My fingers smell like shit. I hate this.

I just let it happen because I know that even if I tried to stop it, they would still go at it, they'd still do it. And it tires me out to fight.


I don' see YOU stoppin' 'em, guey.

I'll deal with them later.

Yeah, he always does. Deal wit' 'em, I means. Usually he makes us all stick out our arm an' carves some reminder into da skin, like: SICK or THOU SHALT NOT SIN or PENDEJOS, shit like that. Once he even carved PUDRANSE all along our forearm, real deep, so we's had ta wear long-sleeved shirts an' jackets ta hide the message from mom. Still it ain't enough ta make 'em stop. I's don' think they ever will. But it's jus' sick, y'know? An' it's worse that they's don' give a shit, they like doin' it, they's feel good, so they keep at it. It always happens.... anywhere from once every two weeks ta once a month. *gaggs* Gaaghh, I's gotta go brush out my mouth n' shit.

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