As I stare down the bottom of another bottle (whiskey this time) I take account of my life thus far. I think of the women that I have met, and there have been many, and one comes to mind. She's not your average woman and that's what I like about her. I met her one night right before I left my hometown, which was years ago, and yet we still stay in touch. What brings me back to this individual you ask....? Well she is good people although she may not be good for me, but when you find someone that makes you not want to drive your car off of a cliff then I figure you should hang on to her regardless the circumstances. Life is supposed to unfold a certain way according to what society tells us however, I did not get that memo when I was born and neither did she. These are the people who make my semblance of a life livable. So cheers, good time and great oldies
Pieces and Creases
TBN
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Friday, August 1, 2014
First Finisher
My cigarette burns down close to the end so I use it to
light another. The beer is gone and the wine is on its last leg. My head is
swimming like Michael Phelps and my lungs resemble the gas chamber I was once
forced to endure. Earlier today I won a 5k road race in Santa Monica… Yay! I
even received a medal to corroborate my achievement. One might construe my
indulgence in tobacco and alcohol as a celebration. And that person obviously
has never met me. Cigarettes and booze are a daily occurrence but winning a
race is not. Instead of rejoicing in my victory I am staring at this computer
screen racing against my inevitable crash (I rose at 5am this morning). I don’t
know where this is going but I felt I should express what I’m not expressing.
Perhaps it’s a metaphor for my life; reach the finish line first and then
wonder what it is I am supposed to do next. Maybe I am running the wrong race?
If so what is the race that will give me the fulfillment I am looking for? I
can always get faster but what is the ultimate purpose if the faster I run the
faster I find the bottom of a bottle? Who is really winning? Me?
Pieces and Creases,
Turbonegro
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