Another Day

Sweaty and aching I open my eyes as far as they will go, which at the moment is a titanic struggle. The world spills into my mind in liquid form at first and solidifies after a few rubs with the back of my dirty hands. As I glance around the room I notice empty bottles of wine, upended glasses with last nights contents pooled around them like the blood of soldiers spilled in some futile battle, in places the ashtrays contents have gone A.W.O.L and in some cases the dog end deserters are paddling in the blood of the dead glass heroes. "Have you no respect." I say to them as I role onto my front and push myself onto my knees using the palms of my filthy hands, every joint in my body pops like a miniature grenade. I rest for a minute summoning up the energy for my ascent to 6FT. "Fasten your seat-belts". I say to some of the weaker parts of my body because I am not sure if they will still be part of my body once we take off. And I am up, BANG my head explodes and I see the flashes from the bombs before my eyes. Blitzkreig it has to be, I look around and sure enough there are enough Groltsch cans and Becks bottles to sink an aircraft carrier. I approach the mirror picking up a bottle of lager which is open and appears to be full, I knock back half of the bottle, my mouth at first closes the border but after the initial taste it allows the fluid entry. I suspect because the Lager is wet, what is this strange cylindrical sponge item in my mouth? I spit it into the palm of my hand, its a cigarette butt. Oh how they like to swim. I look in the mirror and ask the battle scarred and wounded veteran looking back. "If this goes on do you think we will see another day?".