So many mistakes, so little time left: Perhaps none at all. So much effort of such little consequence. Waking hours are spent in a restless tumble in the sheets. The time for sleep is a lethargic monotone of alcohol, cigarettes and denial. Mary Jane may have made things worse, but she could have numbed the pain of watching myself swirl down the drain of 20 years of accomplishment. Expectation, and the cowardice to challenge it are a pair of deadly bedfellows. There are options. There are always options. But none that I would be proud to take. Not that the ones I have done have served me any better. I was not ready. I still am not. Give me back the last 5 years. But it is not yours to give, nor am I worthy of receiving it again.
Jack of all, master of none. Unharnessable potential. Ignorance, inertia, procrastination. Useless.
For you that made it, I smile. For you that didnt, I embrace. For you that arent quite sure, I wish you well. For you that is me, I wish you naught. You failed me, as I failed you.
What will save me? What will take me away? For now I have my alcohol, cigarettes and denial.
