i fucking hate it here.

it's so weird outside.

i'm standing in the middle of nowhere. near a river. could jump down and die, that'd be nice. but like. that isnt important right now. the news dont need to know some girl was found as a glorified kiddie pool.

the middle of nowhere is also conveniently the place where i used to be broke as a kid; well, shit, i'm broke now but no longer a kid, and... it's still so miserable. concrete that moulded. rebar somewhere. tents and trash beneath it. it's almost dystopian how the city and its stupid high rise are so close and some people still lived like this.

you know what. doesnt hurt to take a look.

so i waltzed down. zipped my temu jacket that i also whined for cheap like my chair, since it's like five degrees right now. god, let there be a world-sized heater so winter is less cruel. oh wait. thats fucking global warming. bravo.

"Aye, piss off hoe," said some hobo smoking some pot as i walk down the stairs. "Ain't nun' for ye ass to look for."

"None of your fuckin' business," oh yeah. THOSE people still exist. like ol' morgen whose insurance didn't cough up money so he'd yell at younger me for his alzheimer's. he's dead now. happens when you cant think shit and walk down the rails. plop. i still remember him and his shitty face netted up by the popo, all pale and wrinkled. "I'm lookin' for Big Joe." and he shut his mouth up. biggie would go round' and steal the other hobo's weed and smoke 'em hard in front of their face. won't tell that the motherfucker got bashed by mitchel from block C. holy deserved.

so i walked. you know. because my legs are there. still miserable. needles on the ground, tents everywhere, and i'm pretty sure that's a carcass of a pig lying in the local trash pile of doom. no wait that's just some naked guy tripping on high clouds. wow. jeez. get a room.

so. yeah here's the hole in the wall that used to be my childhood home. this is your origin, Neisu. now it's like a butthole crack that got a bit too big and there are rats living there in my stead.

"Lookin' for Hiro?" the old man next to me said from his stall, cheap charity meals sold at six bucks lined up by the dozen out front. always did that for a profit here since no org would accept to give shit for bridge rats like us. geezer ericque always looked the most dressed so he'd be able to get something edible. make it rich. not that hes gonna escape since he lost his passport ages ago. govts wouldn't give him his shit because he was mexican, and, you know, they dont like em here. "Yeah. Sorta." i replied. talking too much doesnt feed you., learnt that since god started to give me starvation instead of like, i dont fucking know, dubai chocolates.

"Well then him and his woman got hit by some med truck." wow damn. "Hit the news and boosh!" he waved dramatically. damn, old man, i'm not here for your circus play. "No one talks about it cuz' it's Mounjaro's property. You know what it's like with 'em." his crusty old voice is still so casual. rats to rats, two less mouths to feed i guess.

"Cool." i said. started walking again. smells like shit and weed here. a bit of something spicy too. what the fuck. "Right. Great to know. Just asking for debt."

"Agh, another loan? Shit, y'all goin' after they kid too?" he flipped his foldable lawn chair out and threw himself onto it like a bowling ball hitting a 10-pin. "Poor lass, she won't know what's comin'. You look like the Dog's collector eh?" a dry chuckle. i wanted to puke. "G'luck next time.*

"Kay, thanks." that was for nothing. see neisu, its a waste of fucking time..

i walk with the gait of a dysfunctional unicycle out to the other side where skies are as grey as a depressed block of snow. i can still smell the shit and whatever the bozos here put into tre air that made it smell like a chinese hot pot minus the fragrance. its all sichuan and ciba chilly. underpass of filth. walked up the stairs to the main road and. didnt even realize it was that much more tiring to come up.

i scrubbed my eyes once. it made the air sting worse. that company whose chemicals killed my aunt and her dog of course buried their bullshit. theres the fastest finger in the west in movies, and in real life it's the fastest bribery in the world. two hobos dead and a judge to buy out. maybe a fucking fine or two. legal bailouts? more like the fee to pay and do whatever the fuck you want.

i scrubbed my eyes again. stopped at the top of the stairs to keep scrubbing. it gets worse. and wet.

"Tch."

fuck allergy seasons.

fuck winter dryness. fuck it all.

i sat down on to the curb. legs were still shaking from the stairs. or something. doesnt matter.

i shouldnt care about them. they didnt even call me once, why the hell would they be entitled to anything from me?

...

shit. what even was i?

...

i sniffed. this sucks. i'm whining on the curb for nobody like the loser that i am. kept wiping my eyes and it gets wetter and wetter while my lungs tries to do cardio. sniffling and choking.

i cant, man. this type of shit always happen.

Why?

this is not fair by any god damn thing. i fucking hate it here.

blah blah blah create your own scenario whatever i dont care.