On nights like tonight, whiskey is my only friend. Like an engine, the bad particles need to be suspended when you purge the fluid that keeps it alive. Slit the throat, choke and gasp. The dying breath of one is new life breathed into another.
To some I am a mere novelty, a viewing pane that reveals the life of a broken man- a machine that operates diligently until mechanical failure seizes its bearings and breaches its case-hardened exterior, without ever questioning its existence. Because it knows that life is nothing more than a starting point and a finishing point.
I approach life like I approach a road trip- nonstop from A to B. People merge on, people merge off. I glance inside their window and they glance inside mine, but only for moments at a time. My attention is captivated by the white lines. Sometimes I veer from the boundaries, but nonetheless, I press on with my view pointed forward. if I turn my head to the side for too long, I know that I'll fall from my vector and end up prematurely expired.
I often dream about brake failures and freight trains. Too much momentum to make any turns. Debris discarded to my sides, and I run over it all with mechanical indifference. Flat plains surround me, and I don't ask why or where I'm going.
This is just the way that it is.
To some I am a mere novelty, a viewing pane that reveals the life of a broken man- a machine that operates diligently until mechanical failure seizes its bearings and breaches its case-hardened exterior, without ever questioning its existence. Because it knows that life is nothing more than a starting point and a finishing point.
I approach life like I approach a road trip- nonstop from A to B. People merge on, people merge off. I glance inside their window and they glance inside mine, but only for moments at a time. My attention is captivated by the white lines. Sometimes I veer from the boundaries, but nonetheless, I press on with my view pointed forward. if I turn my head to the side for too long, I know that I'll fall from my vector and end up prematurely expired.
I often dream about brake failures and freight trains. Too much momentum to make any turns. Debris discarded to my sides, and I run over it all with mechanical indifference. Flat plains surround me, and I don't ask why or where I'm going.
This is just the way that it is.
jj_r0x0rz:
man i wish i had whisky right now..but if i did i would probably be passed out on the floor smelling like rotting death