[Justice League] Violent Aesthetics

The time jumps to me sitting dry in Dr. George's separate office, like a long-lost sponge block, hardened and faded.

"Xanano."

He said to me, staring at my face with the eyes of a person who is about to drown in the water but still refuses to put his hand out of the water.He scratched the tissue paper with a ballpoint pen as he asked me if I had followed my doctor's orders.

Unfortunately, the doctor I know happens to be off Earth.I said.

The leaves of the dead tree outside the window were about to fall off. Maybe someone poured the chemical reagents discharged from the hospital into the iron bucket containing the water, mixed it with clean water and poured it into the forest guard pool.

The sand grains scratched the glass windows and creaked, creaked.

"Xanax is a dangerous anti-anxiety drug." He stopped writing and looked up at me again, and I moved my legs under the table.

“There are unavoidable consequences to discretionary dosage and maintenance,” he said. “Just like marijuana and heroin drain you, they always lead to addiction.”

A brief sandstorm, I suppose.It was darker than usual, and I went to the doctor with my swollen left side of my face.

"Drowsiness, mania, decreased coordination, and even violent behavior."

As he said that, he hooked his hand around my neck and pulled me away. He straightened my head, turned it around and told me that I had a very strong smell of Xanax on my face.

He trusted his own judgment and said that's how I got into my 20s.

"Take drugs, fight, and waste your life. Mr. Gardner, if you won't listen to me, don't come to consult me."

Joe, please.At least I used to be a policeman. My brother would kill me if he saw me taking drugs. I would rather take sleeping pills and feel like sitting on the toilet seat and masturbating than taking drugs.I said, find me a competent psychiatrist, and I'll leave right away.

The shiny tag on his chest dangled to reflect the light of the incandescent bulb, and the disinfectant soaked my soul, while my body was in a large jar of formalin.

"Listen, if you don't stop suicidally overdosing on Xanax, you'll be hunkering down in your toilet with this list and dying."

He slapped the paper on my chest with a snap, I reached out to catch it and thanked him.

I've imagined a thousand ways to die for myself, but the one Joe told me never occurred to me.

Panic, fear, I understand that I am timid to die in silence like this.

be forgotten.

I am like a heart from someone else's chest, the transplanted organ is rejected by the surrounding tissue, and I need someone to act as my interpreter when I say purr purrrr to others, when I am drooling into a dementia.

There has to be something to relieve stress, and if not this Xanax, there will be a second, a third.

What broke the gloomy atmosphere was an unexpected person, maybe you remember the girl who took my earphones, maybe you remember the girl who left my cell phone number but never talked to me once, now she is here in the house.

We all acted very surprised.

She was more puzzled by the superhero coming to see the doctor than the last time I met me in the library, and she also made me interesting-from this hospital, George's colleague.

When I left the room, I shook the tissue paper in my hand and said: Her beauty is Italian.

"What happened to the face?" Gerald asked me.

I thought for a while and looked up at the chandelier above my head and said: I participated in a beauty pageant.

He snorted.

"With my younger brother's beauty, he shouldn't be beaten out for being too ugly."

My brother stuffed his clothes into a black suitcase lying on the floor, his battle-hardened back covered in ugly scars—one metal zipper after another.

Instead of going up to help, I just stood by him and watched him talk to me in a half-joking, half-serious manner.

He comes here to get his own cigarettes, I don't see why he doesn't keep them at home.

"I'm going on a business trip, maybe two weeks." He put the mystery cigarette on top of some padded clothes he used as a change, and finally looked up at me.

Come on, my dear brother, where are you going with your girlfriend?I said.

"Business trip, something in the police station, what does it have to do with my girlfriend." He pushed his jacket down to squeeze out the air inside to put more things in, making his voice sound real, "Dad recently It's much better, and I will trouble you and my sister for the rest."

Oh.

I watched him stand up slowly and pat the non-existent dust on his hands, then put his hips on his hips and smiled gently at me.

The pagans desecrated the sanctuary, and I desecrated my father's house.

After Gerald went out I went around the hall of the house where I had personally smashed nearly all of his honor with my drunken dad's cane a few years ago.Don't think that I was refreshing and proud when I did this, my son destroyed my father's stuff, oh, it's really great?In fact, I was just thinking that what I want must be a reason to vent.

I touched those cold picture frames with the palm of my hand to think about how true Gerald's words were. Some of the frames contained poor paper photos of my dad when he was young, and the damaged parts had long been replaced.

This wall is the oneness that unites us, the undivided consciousness that can be perceived as the energy of freedom, creation, kindness, joy.

all energy.

The final decision was to squeeze the remaining existential value out of Kyle, who has always been easier for me to deal with than Jordan, although I'm also not sure if he would turn me down as well.

"When do we do it?" Link sat on my couch seconds after he'd pulled one of my jackets out from under my bum and tossed it aside while Sox tucked himself into the table next to the dining table. on the chair.

I served the crispy turkey to the table, and listened to these red-starred red lantern demons speak their suggestions in a thick nasal voice.

Plus a power ring Hal Jordan.

Don't think about stealing any benefits from the Green Lantern Corps, I said, why are they here, they are indeed looking for something, but obviously it has nothing to do with John.

"This time they appeared on Earth," Link fiddled with my remote control, "and attacked Sri Lanka."

I said: how do you know.

All carrots of this type are bred specifically, and I cut it up and down and dice it, imagining its scream in a hundred different timbres.

"I just know." So I stopped what I was doing and gave him a sideways look.

Chefs and grocers quarreled over the price of eggs.

The time of self-sufficiency is always so fulfilling and satisfying. Most of the work on my father's side is taken over by my sister, and I only need to be responsible for watching over this ringleader.

And he's teasing the plastic fake flowers on my dining table.

The author has something to say: