white kids wanna talk about crackhouses

Here's my idea for Halloween: all the soft privileged pale girls with white on the end of their nails that go:

"Whatever Lisa, you're so on crack..."

"And I was just like, he is totally on crack."

"I know, I am so cracked out today."

"Somebody's been hitting the crackrock again. Yeah."

And all the tall and tan with hard chests and heads full of cystic tequila worms knotting the brain that go:

"Yeah, that chick's a crack head"

or in a tone high pitched and half mocking to both yuppies and hoods:

"Pass the crackrock, Jim." when someone's parent is on the phone. Freshmen.

I would like you to visit a crackhouse. Please visit a crackhouse. Metal vomit. Spider eggs in the window. It's funny how funny dead glazed out eyes are, especially when they're darting. Remember those bouncy balls you got when you were a kid from the machine at the front of the grocery store? You put in a Quarter, twisted the silver handle and held your hand below the same shade of silver trap door.The rubber balls were sparkly and dense and quite clouded by the marbled fat of the rubber?

Just bouncing around and sparkling, clouded with rubber fat and brain injury. And remember how you could pick at those balls with your fingernail and little tiny chunks of the rubber would flake off?

That's what the eyes of crackheads are like. And they walk upright and read things printed on walls and piss sometimes. Just like you. And they're real. Just like you?



I'm tired of it. I'm tired of people who don't care enough to learn more. I may be ignorant and white and a woman and worst of all Southern but none of it's willful. Please try.