One step forward and two steps back
And we’re wishin for a future, reminiscing on a flashback
Chasin a dream, hopin it exists
And we’re grittin our teeth and clinchin our fists

Bored to death as I write this, my mind is blank and I dont know where this entry will go will just have to see. Grew-up in a town infested with money, bored children, and drugs. Drugs of every shade, color, and texture. Stuck in a twisted bottle of malt liquor, many seem to exist, throwing negative comments to and fro. Sittin’ on the bumper of a Cadillac STS, saying where’s the party at? Its right here… couple grams of smack, couple grams of rock, and insane stock piles of pharmies. I am not talkin’ about that party, I wanna party… Chicks, human interaction, fuckin’ and suckin’, carbonation floats upwards as I try to grab a bubble to take me away from this place I despise. I would normally be at a bar by this time 5:40 p.m. half way thru my first 6-pack, throwing dollars into the juke box, listening to Gun’s and Rose’s, ‘One in a Million’. I would be lubricating my mind trying to disappear. Or at the very least trying to ‘forget’. Living to forget, I dont want to remember, I dont want to carry this disease thats been handed down thru family ties, long lines of caine, into the needle into my feeble veins trying to forget. It doesn’t work.

Instead, I sleep the day away, hoping for something I don’t know quite what it is, but I am hoping. I feel the strangle hold my medications have on my body start to flex there muscles, aches arch thru my back, my hands shake gentley, it will just be a matter of minutes until I cave in, I dont want to feel. Scared to death, do you count your breath? Whats really going on, dont got much time left, the next second is now, and now is just than and I’ll never get that moment back again. Such a feeble grasp on serenity and peace, inside me there is a storm brewing, I can hear the Thunder, I can feel the Lightening. Take a few deep breaths and think how much worse I could have it, and to be thankful for what I have. I will probably attend an AA meeting this evening, hanging out with a bunch of future me’s? Was it meant to be? I dont think so, I will wipe that chalkboard clean, the eraser is in my hand, but the horned beast has a power I have a hard time competing with. One of these days, I will rip free of his grasp and walk away.

Into the evening Sunlight, back home, to that white picketed fence. Where my wife will be waiting, beaming a healing energy.

One of these Days,
High Hopes,
On the Turning Away…

I have strong feeling of Nostalgia floating thru me, and I cant put them into words, my mind is jumbled, sorry…

http://www.junkylife.com/seedless/index.php/2006/01/07/nostalgia-from-burning-leaves/

http://www.junkylife.com/seedless/index.php/2005/08/19/nyc-greenwich-village-jones-street/