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by Harutyun 

Posted: 13 April 2012
Word Count: 848
Summary: Blepharospasm details the perspectives of a young man that is a junkie and comes to life when the reader realizes that the book reads as though the character has scribed it. It is not often that such a work is introduced in the literary community that is so surreal and leaves one wanting more insight into the characters lives like a junkie needs more drugs in their system. 666 Read more: http://www.drugs-forum.com/forum/showthread.php?t=177567#ixzz1rwuWuD1t

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((Two undernourished egos))
The color: red green

Sore-eyed, and a shivering is running in my feet, and we change our dresses to relax. A box of fruit juice in the middle of the room. Two cups, we wear wide clothes to move easily, and we cross out. Were both sitting on the carpet, blotched. Before us, two cups, sore-eyed...the eyelashes flutter strongly. A spliff in the ashtray. She holds out her hand and wipes the accumulated dust over my eyelashes. She changes the place of the ashtray and walks toward the box of fruit juice, which is in the middle of the room; she picks it up and returns to me. She pours the box of fruit juice in the two cups that are in front of me. I flick the flint of the lighter on the carpet making a spark, she flicks her lighter, lights a cigarette. I take the cup and drink it, and she stares stunned to her cup. She gets up and walks toward the table; she picks up from the table slices of lemon, and then returns to me. She tosses the slices of lemon into the two cups. I take the cup and drink it. And she fills more juice in my cup, and stares stunned into her cup. Then she takes it and drinks. She leans against her shoulder and slumbers. I lie down peacefully, yet the crossing out, the traces of the crossing out. The traces of the crossing out are on the rim of the cup. And I'm still flicking the flint of the lighter on the carpet making a spark. And she lights another cigarette unconsciously. She is slumbering, smoking a grass and I am in wide clothes crossing out, crossing out, crossing out, crossing out whenever I flick the flint of the lighter onto the carpet, with each spark, with each vein protrudes out of my arms. Her lighter is still lighting in her hand, staring into the flame unconsciously. I X out and X out until I dive and float into a deep blackness, where there is no gravity and neither a brain. Veins are increasing from out of my arms and increasing and appearing green. The sleeves of my wide clothes rising up and veil her face; I hold the side of my wide clothes and float by it, I get deeper into the darkness. The gravity's zero makes the brain a play field. Electric horses without riders turning and turning. I X out, X out, X out with each turn. The vertigo slides from me and fades away, it knocks on her bones, her eyes blink for a while. I follow up with the electric horses, I climb up and no more vertigo. It removed everything. My wide clothes are floating in the air, throwing shadows on the heads of the electric horses. It got crossed out. Her eyes twitch, and my eyes sore. I pour for myself another juice cup. She mutters; licks the grass that is on her mouth. The electric horses still turning...and the carpet becomes passageway; I stick my fingers in my ears for more sound, and I stick and stick. It got crossed out. I enjoy with that. I stop flicking the flint of the lighter on the carpet. The lighter is lighting in her hand. The sleeves of my wide clothes plunge down. Her face is clear, and the flame of the lighter that is in her hand. A breeze comes from her face veins. Her eyes blink for a while, I wipe her mouth with my hand, the traces of the grass. She grips the ashtray, and changes its place. Then she gets up unconsciously and walks toward the table, picks up two scissors and two chapeaus, returns toward me. She stares stunned to her cup. She gives me the scissors and the chapeau. She smiles to me unconsciously. I cut my hair, and she cuts her hair. She stares at me stunned. We cut our hair until the scalp of our head becomes touched and visible. Then we put the hat on our heads. She stares at me stunned! Then she gets up again and walks toward the table. She picks up scattered prescriptions from the table then she backs to me again. I pick involuntarily one of those prescriptions. And she picks a one for herself. Then she throws the rest. She lights a cigarette and stares into my face. She joins my face between her arms, and then she puts the prescription that is in my hand, inside the hat that I am wearing. And she puts her prescription inside her hat. She pours in my cup and in her cup the last drop of the fruit juice box. We drink the cup in one stroke, and the lemon slices remain inside the cup. She stares at me with wide eyes, and then she stresses down the brim of my hat and veils my eyes. Then she stresses down the brim of her hat, veils her eyes, and then she flicks her lighter.


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