DRUNKEN BOATS SINK IN ECUMENICAL SWIRLS OF INEBRIATION- excerpt 4

I drank a lot in 2007...

If I figure what kind of writer I am I will figure out who I am…yeah…that’s what I been tellin’ myself lately…sometimes you gotta create some kind of reasonable reality if you’re gonna be able to keep on moving with this s**t. I got my rum and coke, a bowl full of weed-or should I say a head full-and I got ol’ Joseph Christ prophesizing or iterating my existence in song…if I was any further underground, well, then I’d be livin’ in hell…those are some of the lyrics…if you’re asking yourself right now what kind of person can relate to that, then I’d advise you stop reading now…you’ll never get it. But don’t worry, you’re much better off…anyway, so I just got in, coming from Christine’s…we’ve been on the outs for about a week-and-a-half…a couple years really…so I am walking home after seeing her bleary red eyes of sadness framed in the doorway of her apartment, and I’m feeling pretty low as you could imagine…I’m looking around at all the summer couples holding hands, riding bikes, laughing and seeming to have endless things to talk about and I wonder, why can’t I be that? Why is it so hard for me? Why can’t I ease through life like that? I know…sounds cliché, doesn’t it? Everyone’s thinking that and that’s supposed to make me feel OK, but then who are all those people smiling out there? Are they all faking it? Everyone seems to have a grip on the fact that we are all dying…everyone seems quite content with that fact…just live out your years as easy as you can and let someone else deal with all the s**t we think is wrong…I mean, there is someone else taking care of it…right? I’m not casting stones here, if I was they’d all spin back like boomerangs and smash me to bits, I’m no better than anyone else, most definitely worse than others, but I do realize something…what that is I’m not too sure of yet, can’t seem to formulate into anything with substance…I’m just thinking…thinking and waiting…waiting for someone else to take care of all these problems that are plaguing me…me! When did I start to lay back and watch the world go by? Watch my piece of it anyway…I feel like I have this tiny window that’s boarded up with only the smallest of cracks between the boards emanating a fragment of reality that is my existence…who boarded up my window? Who boarded up your window? Why is it so frightening to even think it?

Reviews

[Matching Socks]

I often wonder why can't I be like that too but I think we all do so maybe we just to be like ourselves.
Deep thoughts and I love these excerpts. I feel a voyeur peeping into your dark mind.

[JC]

Thanks for reading Ana, my fellow Canadian, peep away and feel free to bend my ear anytime.

[Lyn Anderson]

I was at this party in 1991 -- well, let's just say I ended up speaking Portuguese to a dude from Guatemala, and we understood each other perfectly. I wrote reams and reams of poetry, and drew my best charcoal sketch ever -- body parts on a clothes line -- it is framed at my girlfriend's house. These have that feel, the crazy philosopher rant at a party ...

[JC]

If I wasn't terrified of parties I would have liked to have been at that party, I think I would have liked what you were ranting