a gloomy goddamned Christmas. The rain couldn’t
wash away the burnt, crisp smell from the husks of a thousand
million imploded brain cells. The alcohol is all gone,
yet the neuroses remain. Why is it that the more you drink,
the emptier you feel?
only hurt the ones we love...
awoke with an unusual laser-sharp clarity. There was old,
dried blood down the entire arm of my shirt and on the
sheets. I inspected myself and found no cuts or marks
anywhere. Some days you wake up and feel like there is
no God, others you can feel his eyes burning through you.
a drinker is like trying to answer a telephone with a
shotgun… there is always collateral damage. The
intentions are almost always for the best, but the results
leave something to be desired …like a virus it infects
everyone in close proximity to it, and leaves the others
in the outer circle maimed and crippled. There is the
camaraderie, the sheer joy of being in the moment and
sifting through the haze and then there is the dark side,
the one we never like to think about …two sides
of the same brutal coin.
that line is a delicate and violent high wire act and
for those of us that do it, we know that it’s a
job best left to the professionals. There are those who
cannot move with the flow, that cannot help but push things
too far. An ugly breed enslaved by their addiction to
sensory overload. Members of an odd skeleton crew, hardwired
to self destruct, polluting everything that surrounds
them, ingesting anything available, running from things
We are the ones with ghosts in our skulls…
We are the eternal letdown…
We are the clots in the bloodstream…
December 27th, 2005