THE KING
>> Friday, June 11, 2010
of drunken absurdity. I bow to the Hoff
i fucking wish
that I could fucking go home. I wish I could smell the desert. I wish I could see the lights. I wish I had friends and family to welcome we with open arms. I wish I had a bright future in the land of my growth. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I wasn't exiled. I wish I wasn't mechasing the buzz
>> Friday, June 4, 2010
I miss
the days
when a small amount of drink
would take me away
blur my vision
make my words stumble
those precious few sips
make my head spin
make the most boring night
a crusade into the unknown
Now, alas, it is but a memory
so much booze
bottles gone
And still i sit here
able to function
I want to be comatose
I hate chasing
the buzz
Drunken sex
has lost its appeal
no more sweaty thrills
in dark rooms
taking my breath away
Now just routine
a daily rutual
open the bottle
pour the lies
drink
repeat
no good
the chase continues
I can never go back
to those days of
youthful zeal
In survival mode now
The booze lubricates
this damning process
Fucking tragedy
this sudden tolerance
But I keep trudging along
How long could this
insanity last?
you have.....
been on my mind lately. what weird words could you contribute to these fucked times. I find myself wondering what you would have to say about these shitty days we currently occupy.
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