______ _ _ ______ _____ ______ /\___/\ / __ \ | `. | | / __ \ | __ \ / __ \ /\___/\ ) ( | |__| | | `. | | |__| | | | \ | | |__| | ) ( =\ /= | __ | | |`. | | __ | | | | | | __ | =\ /= ) ( | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ) ( / \ www.|_| |_| | | | | |_| |_| | | | | |_| |_|.net / \ ) ( ______ | | | | ______ | |__/ | ______ ) ( / \ |______| |_| |_| |______| |_____/ |______| / \ \ / e z i n e \ / \__ __/ __________________________________________________________ \__ __/ )) (( // "Wellbutrin and Zyban" \\ (( 18/10/03 anada524 )) \) (/ Sometimes, the only help comes in the form of a little pill. --Gloomchen. >(o.o)< `,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`, >(o.o)< TABLE OF CONTENTS "Orally Disintegrating Tablets" by HapyHzrd .........................line 35 "The Princess and The Frog" by X-tabai ..............................line 49 "Movement" by Phelign ...............................................line 98 "Checking Out" by Airman Opus ......................................line 141 >(o.o)< `,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`, >(o.o)< "Orally Disintegrating Tablets" by HapyHzrd - hapyhzrd@hotmail.com It only makes sense on the sleeve of another eve. To go out on a limb to pretend, and believe what seems hard to see. When the smoke clears, the only thing I can hear is the beat of a drum for a destiny. I know it's there for me. I push my way up in line, in front of others of my kind, impatient for the screams that lay buried in my dreams. Afterall, it's never weeping if it's only when you're sleeping. >(o.o)< `,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`, >(o.o)< "The Princess and The Frog" by X-tabai - x-tabai@yahoo.com There was a girl with a rich daddy who spoiled her bought her clothes cell phones friends everything she ever wanted. One day he bought her a bright new red convertible with leather interior a bobbing head dog on the dashboard that she loved more than homework until it drove into a lake. She might have been responsible only she was too busy drinking at the time to be worrying about steering or braking, so clearly it was the fault of the car. She dripped on the side of the lake watched her bright red convertible wave its frantic tail light but she could do nothing except scream point cry and then. He came. He was short ugly looked mostly like a frog but he said he could save her car if she promised to take him home with her. She said she would do anything poof there was a tow truck and her car wasn’t quite so shiny or red. But it was hers the mechanic fixed it up right as rain and she drove off left her savior on the roadside with only a check and a handshake. The next day her daddy came back from a business trip the doorbell rang the maid answered and there he was. The mechanic. He was fat sweaty smelled like wet dirt and the girl stopped walking down the stairs but he had already seen her. She choked on air. She told her daddy he laughed said she should go out for dinner with the mechanic if only once because it was the right thing to do. They went out she had a terrible time really he was repulsive nothing like the boys she usually dated. She told him he was very nice but she didn’t think it would work out he asked her to marry him she said let me out of the car so he stopped and she called a cab. He stood outside her window every night for a week sometimes he threw pebbles at her she tried to sleep but he was in her eyelids. Finally one day he climbed her trellis waited in her closet watched her undress go to bed and then. He slowly stepped out so softly caressed her hair she screamed reached under her pillow new gun barking like a guard dog. She shot him in the head. Her light blue walls and cream carpet cringed at the sudden mess she shrieked wailed until the police the paramedics came gave her a sedative. And she slept. And she dreamed. The mechanic was a frog she was a princess she shot him he turned into a handsome prince now she wanted him and for some reason he still wanted her too. And she slept. And she dreamed. And she shuddered. The end. >(o.o)< `,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`, >(o.o)< "Movement" by Phelign - phelign@hotmail.com The rhythmic offbeat of your flip flop backhanding satan's roof, in front of my house, in the season just before the hottest time of year - it moves me when i sit by myself every day, eating everything in the same order. Miraculous that the same food never tastes the same twice in a row, but that would be the excitement of a dreary life spent with a net restraining your crusty upper deck protein strands. It gives me indigestion, the second you walk past me. The moment after you leave is morning breath. Always, you drag your left foot so that the closet of your room is filled only with right flip flops. You won't throw it away, and you take it for granted. The opposite sex is your right flip flop. In the seconds between your speech walking occurs. It is inappropriate for you to run. You bitch about the clthing you ritualistically buy - it is cheap - it is small - you would not buy it if it didn't fit - you would not eat if it didn't fit. You do not work for your money. I do not work for my money, but I never spend my money on anything. Your purse contains seven unique strains of lip balm. It is used to sterilize your mouth. The fake wetness spreads like an oil spill across your vast, worthless lips. A sock has not graced your foot since ice left the ground. Your ass says angel. You never shave in the presence of other people; your legs do not grow hair. In the space of 1.5 seconds, between breaths, a small cog turns precisely once inside your head. Upon the termination of the succeeding breath, that same cog shudders back into its original position. In the past two weeks, I've stepped in five pieces of your gum. Every 100 million years it is probably the earth will be hit with significant gamma and cosmic radiation - enough to destroy everything on the planet, utterly. Chevre cheese, goat cheese, comes in a variety treated with alcohol. Cheese shots are improbable because of the puke factor. >(o.o)< `,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`, >(o.o)< "Checking Out" by Airman Opus - snoonan@acm.org on a unseasonably chilly night, you've checked into a hotel downtown. forty stories up, your window looks out on the mirrored office tower across the street. on said street, people, cars, bicycles, dogs, cats, mice, and the occasional skateboarder move back and forth to a pulse that you cannot seem to see or feel. you open the window, having managed to pry your way through the lock that kept it shut. the cool breeze blows in now, billowing the curtains outside. you wait a minute, wondering why nothing happens... no alarms go off. the heat in the room kicks on, casually, trying to overcome the cool air from outside. you feel disappointed. climbing onto the sill, you let your feet dangle. in the mirrored glass windows across the street, you can see yourself reflected in the light of the city at night, the wind blowing through the canyon of the street chills you to the bone. muted noises come slowly up from the street, and then everything is silent as you push yourself off from the ledge... and then everything is dark. on the street, people gather in a circle, looking at the mess on the sidewalk. cellphones appear (don't they always) as people do the right thing and call 911. traffic stops. people stand looking up, shaking their heads. was it an accident? was it a... suicide? oh, horrors. the wailing of an ambulance siren, sounding a little silly in its needless urgency, fires up from a few blocks away. on the desk in the hotel room, next to the lamp, is a room key. a sign on the desk tells present and future occupants that upon checking out, please leave the key on the desk, turn off all the lights, close the room door, and please stay with us again soon. a suitcase, packed with many things that were once important, sits motionless on the edge of the bed. forty stories below, in the dark alley behind the hotel, an unmarked door opens. into the chilly night steps a lone figure, pulling his collar up against the chill. several people run past, heading for the street out front to see what happened. taking the steps to the alley slowly, he looks to the left, and then to the right. taking deliberate steps, he takes the left path, turning the corner and disappearing at the end of the alley. the wind blows some leaves and a long forgotten newspaper in circles down the alley. as the leaves and newspaper settle to the ground, the alley is silent again. /|/| ( @ @) ) ^ / ||| (c) 2003 Anada E'zine www.anada.net * Anada is cat-friendly. / )|||____________________________________________________________________ (__________________________________________________________________________)