My Opposite

[da]

(From a short piece of fiction by mccorpsecorpse): Who is your opposite?

My opposite works three jobs: grocery bagger during the day, rent boy in the evening, and selling hard drugs whenever he can get them. He only respects those he fears. He's one bounced rent-cheque from being homeless, but that doesn't faze him because he's been on the streets before, and also he doesn't think that far in advance. If he did, he'd realize his days as rent-boy are numbered, 'cause he ain't getting younger. No matter, life's much better for him than it was when he got to the city of Calcutta as a teenager. He was born in rural slums, the youngest of eight siblings and had very little stability. He hates what he remembers of his family. When he dreams now, they are dreams of power, money, and revenge on all who did him wrong. If he gets drunk enough, he stops being afraid and forgets that his best years are far behind him.

My opposite hates dogs.

Comments

[widgetfox.livejournal.com]

My opposite is a stewardess. She particularly likes the travelling, meeting and chatting with new people, actually being in the air and dealing with drunk and sick people and children.

She doesn't think very much about what it's all for, she just gets on with it. She likes to party a lot. She thinks that the Internet is a bit sad.

She has a great sense of direction but can never remember phone numbers or names.

Her hair is its natural colour, she doesn't like make-up and her shoes are all flat-heeled.

[da-lj.livejournal.com]

Hah. That's great.

[da-lj.livejournal.com]

btw- I was just talking with d. on the phone, and he said he forgot to give you my email address. da_lj at livejournal works... And now you have it. :)