I came to destroy. To hurt what you love. To feel the warm liquid between my fingers as I rip out human circuitry and leave a mess on the floor. It isn’t fair, it isn’t particularly honest but it’s in the programming and the directives are clear. That’s the sort of shit that I’d talk with people between gigs back in the day. Obscure apocalyptic pseudo-technocratic mumbo jumbo that I must have thought made me sound cool but it was really a bluff against the pain and longing that I lived with in those days. Jo was gone and the ossified remains of the organ formerly known as my heart had been cast into Lost Lagoon to blend with the algae and drown. A little heavy on the texture there but it is pretty close to how I felt at the time. Like a bruised Cure fan locked out of the puppy show. My longing for Jordyn struggled beneath the constant strafing of cocaine, bourbon, and cigarettes. The vision for The Chemical Spray crackled and spat like a live wire in my head. Colour and energy but dangerously incoherent. I didn’t realize that we were missing the two things that would turn The Chemical Spray from erratic visions to ecstatic pulsing amphetamine blur. | image @najimir . . . #writingcommunity #amwriting #writersofinstagram #fiction #arttherapy #memory #lostmemory #writer #fiction