Pain. Hate. Self disgust. I met the embodiement of these things in front of a sex shop in the heroine district of seattle one morning. His self loathing was much stronger than mine has ever been. The two boys that I've been spanging with; Zip and Pip had guitars, and that's why he stopped in the first place. After a brief moment of awkward silence he bought us a beer, and since my tolerance to alchohol is so low lately I had a sob filled confessional, that hurt more than it did liberate. Once the stunned silence cleared the man placed his sun glasses firmly in front of his slowly watering eyes and shared his morbid story.

Though he didn't share all of the details he did say that his daughter, his whole life, Was with his ex wife. He was homeless as well, and was executing a gradual suicide through hard drugs, alchohol, cigarettes, sleep deprivation, and a nocturnal life style. He said that he was so desperate to die that he was planning on attacking a police man and giving them no option but to kill him.

I live to lighten the pain of others. I admit I do take what I want when I can get away from it, but I hate to see suffering. I gave this man, whoes name I don't recall some money, and conversation. I let him believe that he was talking to a young homeless girl, simply because it's much easier for men who's lives are dedicated to self hatred to open up to women. When he left I told him that "you will live in darkness until the end of your days. You will feel the pain of this world. But as you lay down to die- and I know this is cliche- You will see one last light. Something that may blind you from the after life. I promise you it won't hurt for much longer."

I still haven't wiped away the kiss on my cheeck that he gave me. It wasn't just the kiss of a man who's name I don't recall. It was the kiss from Adrian that I didn't get when he walked away. It was a kiss that I needed to remind me of my own mortality.

It was the kiss of death.