I read it

I walked. I walked till my legs felt melted jellow and my sides burned liked they were dipped in Lye. I had no reason. Everyone tells me I should have a reason, a purpose. They tell me "You should look into this.."and "You gotta do that". Bullshit. I dont know why I keep walking. Maybe its the endorphins that are getting me high. Its late. Maybe like 2:30ish in the moning kind of late. The kind that late night mixed with early morning kind of time. I swat my right hand pocket looking for my smokes. I'm out like usual. This whole quitting thing is tough, its even harder to smoke especially when you never had in the first place. You know what? I'am gonna buy a pack of smokes. I need to find a place. There's a super america in sight, I think I'll check it out. I walk up to the clerk and freeze. If I have never bought one before, how do I know whats best? "My friend here will have the Marb Reds, make that two." Fucking cop startles the shit outta of me. All I can squeak out is a thanks. He puts down cash and walks out and grabs a seat on the curb. Hey clerk dude, who's that cop? "Thats sheriff Harris. You from around here?" Yeah bye. What could I say, I was under age. I whip out a smoke and grab seat on the curb next to the Sheriff. "Listen kid, if you wanna thank me dont. You had no clue what you wanted and only real smokers can handle the red". I Inhaled. My exhale was vomit."Welcome to Marb country. Now if you'll escuse me." Some young punk kids came strolling to the station. The cop disappears. The kids walk in to the station and purchase beer. Right outta the store they all crack open a bottle. Mr. Sheriff pulls a SWAT on them and comes from nowhere. He busts em for drinking then he busts the clerk for selling. I get up and run. I hate running.