the next one

im alive,and ninety percent of everything i experience is unreal. my name is johnathan welch. i am going to ask that you to follow me now and ask very little questions.the events that im about to relay is total true, true but not disprovable.
have you ever walked into a room,an elevator , or anywhere for that matter and felt something contrived about the way thing appear, have people you have met seem unbelievable, insincere, subversive, well im here to let you know that chances are they were.i am in my twenties, i moved to a city, lets not say which,for that will give too much away too soon. but i was there and so were thousands of other people.they center there lives around me, and most of the time my affairs take precedence over their closest loved ones. i am constantly in the middle of a scene, not a scene that the indeterminable flow of human interaction brought to fruition,no , these scenes are ripped from the minds of very obsessed people.they are quite depraved and they are strenghtened my the share force of their numbers. they are all in league, forging ahead. the goal of these people is to create a seperate reality for me, i know it sounds extremely paranoid,but buckle down my friends it just tip ,and this goes deep.by know im sure that your experiencing some degree of confusion and you want to know who the hell i am,you want to know if the name i gave in the beggining was even my real name,well it isnt.this doesnt mean im a liar , im far from it , i conceal to to be careful, not to decieve.you must here every thing before you make up your mind about this story that is not really a story about a man name johnny welch thats not even a real man who is a front for a real man forced to become great or be crushed . im here writing this story so i guess i wasnt crush, therefore i must have become great in the nick of then. i am buy the way. think im lieing. i guarantee you by the time i have said all you will be singing my praises.
its monday, and the year and just begun , im hung over. everybody in the trash heap motel im staying is either coming down from a raucous crack high or as i said before,hung over.the suit case i brought with from michigan is still unpacked , im at the window .the curtains smell like salmon. the room is too fucking dark. my breath smells terrible. my cloths are still clean. im barefoot . my head is still bleeding.my money is gone .the whore is half way across town ,probably sucking dick for rocks , god knows toss ups never sleep. im angry and i want to go find her ,but i cant remember the name she gave me. im walking across the room now. miguel is still tied and gagged. i stoop down to look at his face ,he is close to death, im close to sending him sooner. he was still awake .he didnt sleep last night, i had to kick him in the face if he wasnt going shut up. i want to shoot him. but that fucking whore to my revolver. i still have a 9mm in my unpacked suit case. im frantic i grab my suitcase anf whipped it onto the bed,im ripping it open. oh my fucking god. im looking at three severed fingers , the nine mil is gone and i cant remember how or when.one of the fingers had miguels ring on it. im rushing over to him , im rolling him over.the back of his pants is completely with blood. his left hand is gone and he is about to pass out. missing gun,missing money , dieing immigrant on my hotel floor . im breathing toofast fast now im panicing, my prints my fucking prints are all over this place . siren are going off outside and they are too loud . im thinking ,im thinking , oh my god i cant think. my mind is all over the place . dead body. blood, michigan, whore , room ,salmon , happy new year!. the door is being banged. " who is it " ,
" its the police"
im super cool now .
"is there anything i can help you with officer"
" yeah , you could open the door"
"ok, just a minute"
hide, hide , hide, im hiding every thing . im rolling migeul under the bed, im wiping off blood , im desperately missing michigan. im up. my hand is on the knob. breathe deep johnny, breathe motherfucking deep.
before i tell you anymore you should probably hear how i got to that point .

you see i grew up in midland michigan, dont get me wrong its a beautiful place. but as long as i could remember i wanted to get out and see the world. i never felt michigan was it. my father spent his entire life in midland ,my mother moved there from upstate new york back inthe summer fifty five and she never left except to visit her parents, and when they died in eighty nine she went to their funeral and she has been docked in midland ever since. our house was at 5520 hedgewood drive,and clearly it was the worst house on the street . the communty was dead in the centree of midland,not too close to anything except the midland medical centre which was a couple blocks away .my father work as the graveyard nurse their for 32 years