It's about me. My life. My screw ups. My bastard self. My depravity. My damnation!
What do you do if you've fucked up too much. What do you do then?
I can't glue back the hundreds of plates you've broken back there, I can't undo the damage, can't change the evidence on that scale of judgement.
Tormented by the shredding going on inside, not once in a week, or every morning, but continually. To have, at the back of my turd shaped brain, the knowledge and the pain of being a destroyer. Self destruction - no, not that, that's not the tumour, that isn't the answer as Chuck might had have us believe either. Some argue that it might be the answer to getting laid but, not to life, no it isn't.
The destruction and violent defiling, with the appearance of grace and elegance of a dying blue blood royalty, of all love and beauty around in the shit pot of an excuse I call 'a life', is the fucking tumour. The sadness of knowing that I cannot possibly be much more than a horny, despicable, idiosyncratic, douche bag with the mental capacity of a pre teen kid, and that the impulses to change that don't last too long - because, I don't have a pair; or just maybe because I do.
Gun to your head in a store - life flashing by. What do you see?
I see some extremely messed up shit, some bad decisions.
In all fairness, there are better than good things too, but this isn't about those, so I'm going to let them pass by unnoticed. For now.
I see bridges burned, one way roads taken, innocence lost, mistakes done, and redone, and redone a few more times. I see treasures lost, people hurt irreparably, times lost, myself lost.
Lost in a deluging and seemingly beautiful and calm sea of nothingness, with those few moments on the shore - when I see a spade to be a spade. And myself for what I am. Then I go light the fire between the lips, pick the bottle and get to business.
End of the day, or the morning after - What's inside the human pumping mechanism, and I don't mean the ejaculatory system.
Another step towards what I know I don't want to end up in. Another step away from the one thing I should fly towards. Another step to damnation; Oh! Wait, I was there a long time back already.
Remorse. A kick in the balls. A solid shake - a wake up call. Thats what I feel like. Then I either sleep off, or wake up either ways - to the fictional life in a self conceived world I imagine myself to be living. A desperate wish for me to get up and realise it was all a dream. A good bad dream, the ones you thank for happening.
The blame. Who do you blame; yourself - never!!!
I mean for real!! I can't remember when I blamed myself for this - to myself and to the people around, I give some garbage about things in life happening and changing you - but what the fuck! I made the choices. I know it, hell everybody knows it. Hell even she knows it. She might hate herself for it somewhere, but the truth is, she made her choices and I mine. She is no way responsible for my depravity.
I think its high time I need to accept that I am the master of my fate; the captain of my soul.
And since I think I know what I want the compass bearing to read, time I turn that helm the right way.
Adios.
To a life worth dying for.