I drift alone in a sea of disaster…
My arm reaches for my savior but I have trouble grasping hold.
I find my self on a deserted shore…
I try to stand, yet me knees give way before me.
So I crawl throughout the dark, my legs a dottle behind me…
What was once my hearts only passion.
Turned black as ash, destroyed in the fires.
Pain you can’t just heal…
of a future that could’ve been.
Alas to a life of labour…
Forced to fight, doomed to die.
But to what cause ?
To what do I find my life consumed…
Tis naught a bright future.
yet not black as cole…
I am but a fool.
Like a wild ass in the desert…
I draw close to a stream.
Only to find it flowing with poison…
Escape ! Yet so inevitable a fate.
What is to become ?
Should a simple being relent or…
shall one continue to strive to be the best.
But to what end is life ?
— Spidey01, 2007-06-09
The sad thing…. I’m not drinking !!! I’m perfectly sober. Just collecting my minds thoughts. Mm, I remember it wasn’t always like this. I dunno if it was an improvement or a loss any more. No point to idle in the past.
This months been heck but is far removed from it. I guess I need to keep going, but I don’t know to what end. I… need a vacation.
My idea of the perfect rest.. right now would be a deserted island, a nice stiff tropical drink. A good book and no one around for miles. Just me, no one to bother me, not even a computer.
but it’d be some damn boring…..