As the lit end of the cigarette butt came into contact with the dry surface of my skin I could hear the pours begging for mercy as their eyes were melted into future scar tissue. The past present and future all came together in one glorious orgasm of pain, and in that instant I knew what it was to burst forth from a cocoon of innocence. Suddenly the air was rank with greed, guilt, lust, hate, and anguish; and all I could ask myself was, "Is this what I've longed for so many years?" Like the newborn that wishes only for the lost warmth of its mother amnion I wanted back that which a single lit cigarette butt had taken from me, I wanted back the freedom to love and hate whomever I so pleased.
In the days prior to my 'coming of age' (Hah, a term only the 'cultured' feel comfortable using!) the world was of a static reality, there were simply the good and the bad, the black and the white, the girls and the boys, now I had to deal with this Technicolor dream. I