Seven x Seven x Seven

Things Can Only Get Better

You… show me prejudice and greed
You show me how
I must learn to deal with this disease
I look at things now
In a different light than I did before
I found the cause

So I think I’m almost getting the hang of things, well, except for the hunger. Gawddamn but I’m hungry all of the time now.
I seem to run a whole lot of more pick-ups an drops now than I ever did before. I can’t tell if that is because my uncle trusts me more or if he trusts that I’m less likely to be fucked with than before.
Whatever the reason, there is no problem for me collecting what’s due; but as easy as it could be for me to rake in some serious graff, I’d give all to a fucking nunnery if it would stop the hunger.
In the meantime, here I am again, in the laundry room of another apartment building, checking the dryers for the drop… and maybe a few pairs of panties… just for shits and giggles, of course… and because I can.
This time I manage to score a nice a pair; clean even.
Making my way back to the lobby I see Marty, who may have always been here (even before there was ever a building here) and he is blankly staring out at the main door. I follow his gaze and all I can see is a dark parking lot; big deal.
But it is more than that.
The lot is not just dark, it’s darkness. I mean there really is nothing out there.
I see a small crowd has gathered and is beginning to panic as each person tries to get the door open.
Not one of these clowns can open a fucking glass door?
Ah fer fucks sake.
Given my new outlook on life (or should that be unlife?), I figure it’ll be dead easy (heh-heh) to impress these lame-wads and open the door.
Only I can’t.
Now that is fucked up.
I can’t do it. I should be able to bend the metal frame like it is made out of playdough, but this mother fucker’s not even close to buckling.
I feel even hungrier as I stop trying to rip this door open.
Then I get a little uneasy.
Not because the door refuses to budge. I mean that alone is worth me losing my shit over, but I realize I’m being stared at.
A college type.
He’s giving me the hairy eyeball, like he just caught a fox in the hen-house.
I’d give a better look-see but there is that smell, that nice clean smell.
I look around and then I see her, joining the growing number here in the lobby, the owner of the panties.
She is shower fresh and wearing wonderfully clean clothes; that’s how I know the panties are hers – that scent is going to haunt me. Of course, it’ll be my fault that it does because I keep breathing deeply from the panties. I’m holding on to them like a hanky and covering up my compulsion with a little nose wiping for good measure.
It may not take away the hunger, but is helping maintain my calm.
Looks like she’s got Marty willing to help her look up on the floors, the college type seems to be tagging along too.
Well fuck it, I’m not staying down here with the little sheep, I’m going to keep an eye on this crew.
So now here I am checking rooms with Marty and Co., and I’m in one of the renos.
This bunch sure seem a little on edge with the whole thing.
You’ll never guess who I find – Joan fuck-me-now Severance, or her gawddamn twin!
Oh sweet Jesus those tits!
But instead of sporting wood, all I want to do is eat; I’m not talking downtown either. I actually want to eat her up like the best porterhouse after a forced medical test fast.
Then all of sudden, it’s like I should be chowing down, but I’m not gaining any strength… and I don’t to be any less hungry. But I can’t stop.
I am determined to make a meal out this woman.

And I think that you could be my cure
And you say

Walk your path
Wear your shoes
Talk like that
I’ll be an angel too

Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get




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