Blow Up The Outside World

Usually I post my short fiction at my other blog ( but due to this tales inspiration I thought I’d publish it here.

I bought Soundgarden’s “Down On The Upside” shortly after is came out in 1996 at the age of 13. They were my favorite band at the time and something about this track really spoke to me at the time. I thought it would be fun to write a story based on the tune and 16 years later I’ve finally done it. Enjoy.


Nothing seems to kill me no matter how hard I try. L0zfR
I’ve tried everything too. Drowning proved to be harder than it seemed. I lasted several minutes in the bathtub but the burning in my lungs got too intense so came up for air.
The fork in the electrical socket doesn’t kill you. It only leaves a nasty burn on your palm.
It’s easy to cut the first wrist but if you damage a tendon it’s nearly impossible to slice the second. Plus, then you’ve got all sorts of other problems on top of the ones you were running away from in the first place. A nasty scar and trip to the psych ward to name a few.
I jumped off the roof and shattered my ankle. Next time I’ll have to go higher. I put a Walmart bag over my head but after I passed out it slipped off and I came to with a helluva headache. I ran a hose from my tailpipe through the window, then I ran out of gas.
I drank some bleach. Not a lot, just enough to burn. Then I passed out from all the booze I had to drink to work the nerve to drink bleach
The rafters in the garage don’t support my weight. At least not when I’m hanging from a rope tied to one spot.
I’ve tried to overdose countless times but I always just end up covered in puke and/or piss and/or shit. I wish someone would sell me some good drugs.
So now I’m sitting here with this .38 revolver. I’ve loaded all six cylinders. I’m sure I’d win a game of Russian roulette at this point so I’m not taking any chances.And I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do. I’m so confused about everything. I feel like a toddler met with cooing baby talk one moment and berating obscenities the next. I can’t make heads or tails of this world anymore. It all seems so insane.

Is my mother the person who carried me in her body for nine months then nurtured me for the first several years of my life? Or is she the woman who yelled at me all through high school to cut my hair and get a job and not end up a worthless piece of shit like my father? Was she the damsel or the drunk?
Was my father a guy who played catch with me or was the guy who beat me if I didn’t wash the dishes right? Did he deserve his piece and quiet because he worked hard to feed and clothe me? Or did he only get it because I got the belt?
What about love? What is love? Is it ballroom dancing at the local VFW hall or paradise by the dashboard light?
Happiness? The new car or a needle hitting the vein?
Are the Democrats good for our country or should I vote Republican? Why do we support Israel? Do we we support them enough? Why does Iran hate us? Should I use unleaded or premium? This shirt or that? Will I have enough money for rent?
It doesn’t matter… After so much time you can’t make sense of anything. Now I’ll try sensory deprivation.
Now I’ll blow it all to hell and gone.



One thought on “Blow Up The Outside World

  1. Pingback: RIP Chris Cornell | The Audible Stew

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