From: kjamieso@nermal.santarosa.edu (Kevin Jamieson)
Subject: We Be -- Part 1
Date: Mon Apr 24 07:12:12 MET DST 1995

We Be -- Part 1
by Kevin Jamieson
Composed Entirely online,
in a fit of 70watt lighting.


	I awoke in the rain, once more, as the slow sweat of the city
trickled it's way down the alley, down the dumpster, down the rusted steel
grate which led to god knows where.
	And frankly, I didn't care too terribly much.  The water would
always be here. I would not.  Seemed logical.

	So I picked myself up off of the ground, and I began shuffling
down the alleyway.  Alley's are strange things; a lack of space between two
buildings that should be flush against each other, but aren't. As if they
want to keep their distance.

	The drizzling night sky held the wonders of the world, if you were
willing to pay for them.  I saw multimillion dollar advertisements splayed
out in a lattice of light across the particle choked sky, advertisements
meant to lure me to drink that special drink, snort that special chemical,
submit to someone elses concept of what my life should be like.
	And what SHOULD my life be like?

	I thought about that for awhile.  Horrible affliction, thought.
Makes you question what people want you to believe. So I walked a little
more.
	The parachute jacket I was wearing had managed to bleed at least
twice the amount of water into my shirt that was falling from the sky at the
time.  There were little spider-web like fissures in the cracked, waxed
black denim.  What a slave to fashion.

	To the street, to the corner, and under the overhanging throughway
that held people and cars and trucks and smoke.  There was a small bar open,
that night, a small bar with a sign that said something in Gaelic, with
doors that welcomed you like a snake's mouth.
	
	It was smoky inside, but only slightly smokier than outside. I
didn't mind too terribly much.  Come to think of it, if you don't mind
waking up drenched in an alley, you can't really mind much.
	I ordered a beer. It was warm. When I complained, this old grizzled
guy looked me straight in the eye and shoved a hypo in my side. They tossed
me into another alleyway.

	Life, as they say, has a tendencey to repeat itself.