‘ll always be a mystery, things happen, things come and go, little things and big. but they’ll never tell you who i am. what will, is how i adapt to them.
i’ve decided to omit drinking from my routine as part of a self improvement pact i’ve made with myself, yet the world without the beer goggles is much uglier than i’ve anticipated. i can clearly see how putrid things are and how the simple things you once believed in have a second prickly, crusty face that isn’t noticeable at first glance.
simple words and promises are for the feeble-minded that aim to appease a part of you that died with the days of wine and roses. that you’ve never been born with, but those days of wine and roses are and have been through.
you gradually discover your buffet plate, in which you’ve been stacking up as soon as you were brought to the table has filled you up long ago. yet you keep eating and gorging the things you know you don’t want to eat. a mutual disgust is shared with everyone else in the line and a choreographed mass vomitting should take place. if not to openly show how everyone really feels.
in the span of a week, i’ve discovered something i was receiving in which no request was made, lost the love of my life, and found out i’m going to die of cancer or a tumor. neither of which would result in flowers and laughter and wine and roses. perhaps to some. i apologize for my cynicism, i’m just purging the filthy ideas inside me.
man came from the sea, and to the sea he will return, enjoy your meal.