Colourblind

I am on my third glass already, it is nothing, it doesn’t affect me, I am unaffectable; smoke, drink, weed, crack, coffee, smack, both kinds of coke, lemsip, rides you must be over six to go on, a baby’s first smile, none of these things have any effect on me. My body is immune, oblivious to all stimulants, and so I stand, staring out the world. Oh I’ve tried, believe me I’ve tried motherfucker. When I was four years old my sister and I drank two bottles of Seven Up. Each. She squeezed the cat so hard she broke its leg. I sat down with a carton of milk and poured it into my sandpit, I traced shapes with my fingers, waiting for the rush. It’s still not here. I pop two more pills, for affect rather than effect. I close my eyes and make like I’m sleeping. I fool everyone except myself. In the morning when I wake, I look at him sleep for a long while. I have a shower. By the time he comes downstairs I am on my third bowl of sugar-frosted cereal. As he shuffles around the kitchen I bend the spoon so hard I bruise my thumb. It’s nothing. I am unaffectable.