spend my days off restlessly,
trying to remember how to have a good time.
slipping further down,
grasping at sabotaged rungs.
so tempted to fall back, to the old ways
but i know i can't
so i...
..don't really know what it is i do.
I flounder, i guess.
try to force the infamous half-smile
but i can feel the space behind my eyes burning
-or burning out.
should've burned out when it still would've been cool.
now i'm destined to fade away
into obscurity
mediocrity
maybe i've always been here
..
a nice ass in tight jeans catches my glance,
the movement fluid
and it never ceases to amaze me how all the mechanical,
the microbial,
atomic-level interactions,
the system within system..
how all this meat and juice and turmoil
can sometimes be wrapped in such beauty as to bring a man
crashing into oblivion
-or at least scatter a train of thought absolutely.
'you look sad'
she tells me from a few hours back.
guess i'm not pretending as well as i could be.
so i head home.
listen to more sad music
find auditory memories
and drink hot yerba
trying to calm my frayed nerves
..or feed them?
feel the urge to paint,
but not to brave public presence to get new brushes.
though i could maybe justify a trip that way for a jug of wine
or bottle of whiskey
or both.
a trio
to kill the pain.
feels like a good night for oblivion.
how i wish it was warm outside.
a drunk in a park, under a moon sounds so nice.
hell, drunk anywhere sounds better than this.


so i depart.