These days move faster than Alex in a Durango.
Night skies are gone before I can even adore a star.
The birds fill me with rage equal to burning feathers.
I wipe my dry eyes.
Precision. Extract it out of that meatbag, haired skin n bones, poor excuse for a human body that you rest in.
Beat that lump of organic mass until it coughs up some form of dignity, pride and honor.
There. You got it.
I build my brain back into the eyesore of a wall it usually is.
The cigarette helped.
Now, I sit... watching frail smoke rings get eaten by a cheap oscillating fan.
I gather my new thoughts.
Things always look to be changing.
From a young age, I've thought that you shouldnt rely or depend on anyone in life but yourself.
So far, I have had to break this rule a few times. Every time I did, I regretted it.
About to get back to my old hustle. I figure why the fuck not? I aint doing shit. I can't get normal work thanks to my criminal record and finger tatts, so yeah... caution to the wind and warnings to cyclones.
Not much time left anyway, not that expect anyone out of my loop to understand that. Nothing Mayan either.
While talking to a friend the other day, I realized a lot of my friends had given up smoking weed and doing drugs this year. Hanging up their lungs. Which led me to think that if breathing was equal to walking, then smoking was like running. I'm never going to stop my Olympic training. WORD TO ME.
I should probably be a whole lot more angry/emo at life. Why though? What's the point? I know I'm calm and I look for the positive in most situations, but that's a commodity that never changes, and when everything seems to be in a constant state of change, you really need to know what your load bearing pillars are. I am well reinforced.
I'm a good person living a bad life.
Right place, wrong time.
Dirty dishes. Half full glasses.
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