This World

This world is one in which we can slowly commit suicide every night while our friends help us, pouring shots and chanting while we toss em back. One in which the more lost you are, the more you are found. The more friends you make all wanting to join you on your journey into the abyss. That sweet taste of vomit like an elixir of happiness as we wake up morning after morning from nights not remembered, or ones we wish we didn’t. Better left forgotten are the mistakes you’ve made, swept under the rug like some spec of dirt on this impeccable floor I so dutifully raise myself up from every fucking day so I can put on a smile and cause a few laughs. THIS world, this stage on which I am the star in every role. Act 1 person, act 2 son, act 3 friend, act 4 boyfriend, act 5 student, act 6 someone who cares enough to make something out of this messed up pile of pick up sticks, yet to figure out which act is the hardest, or even which I’m best at. Funny I should question that because as Holmes would say its elementary my dear Watson, you suck at them all your like a running back who can hold the ball, a sky diver scared to fall, a fuckin midget trying to conquer the great wall. This world in which cocaine is the party drug, sell it, snort it, smoke it and yous a thug, got your pick of any pretty little thing passed out on the rug, wake up next to her.. She sees the look on your face and asks you what you’re thinking of, you tell her love. But your really thinking damn hope I used a glove. This world in which people spend every second of everyday trying to find another way, another way to ease what troubles them. Bury there own painful needle in a big mound of hay…or should I says yay. Fueled by greed thinking it’s a need, cheating lying stealing, doing every bad deed. This world in which phones ring at 3:10 in the morning, on one end a groggy hello, on the other a sigh of relief, relief that you have somebody to talk to, doesn’t matter who, just a voice to guide you back into the reality from which you departed an hour ago snorting all the blow. Keep them on the phone as long as you can cuz relief turns to panic as soon as you here that dial tone, sweaty hands grip the phone as you cycle through the contact list, panic growing with each unanswered ring, open hands clenched to fist, fist very similar to what made these holes. Sometimes clenched in misery, despair, happiness, trust….but mostly in anger, RAGE! Senseless rage like a bull who’s caged seen red and now wants your head. This world that is so fucked up nobody even knows how it’s even supposed to be, where there’s no longer even an idea of what’s right and wrong. Everything’s justifiable, steal- I needed it, kill- I hated him, cheat-she wasn’t enough, I can make up an excuse….a lie for anything, where do I draw the line? Some say gods the answer to the worlds problems. Hypocrites!!!! Practice what you preach, give what you’ve earned away, bust your ass building houses for the poor, better yet let them have your house, you know..the one you WORKED for spent years of your life acquiring so some high school fuck up can drink more and not have to worry about it, that’s a fucking joke, the lord helps those who help themselves help yourself, you are god, YOU make who and what you are, you weren’t preprogrammed by some old man sitting on a cloud. God is our morals, our ethics, our own personal ideas of whats right and wrong, you want the world a better place, start at home….sound advice, you’re a regular fuckin philosopher huh? Noooo not really. What about me, what happened to me, maybe I don’t have the tools to rebuild this house am I just sol? Guess so. But hey fuck it there’s always another day…always…funny how short always can turn out to be, see she told me always onces about a year ago turns out I was just part of the show, her act 4, our relationship as constant as a revolving door , fight, fuck, and fake it some more. Fake it till you don’t know what’s real anymore, till your running around like Poe screaming Eleanor, till she comes to you disguised as a whore saying she’ll be the one to love you always and forever or dare I say evermore. Three words used to express our love, three unpredictable and meaningless words, more like ill love you till you no longer interest me, (pretty soon since your getting kind of chubby) ill love you till I find someone better, someone who makes me wetter, or stand up and point like an Irish setter. That’s my forever, forever changes with every second so why not with every circumstance? Watson you fucking fool cuz that’s just not how it works, its one of this world little quirks, you gotta cover it up like beer guts with loose shirts. More dirt specs off this pristine fucking floor. You start questioning things you’ll start a war and 6 billion to one will be the finale score. Last thing you’ll hear is them hammering nails into your coffin door, yes door, not lid. Door marked exit, exit this crazy world in which we live and who would wanna do that, why exit this beautiful show in which you can do anything that you could possibly dream of, you can be anything. Play any role, why question it and end that when you can so easily just go with the flow as they say… Ask no questions and they’ll tell you no lies, not really a surprise but maybe you need to hear some lies every once in a while to know that its not just you, that this is every ones style, the pretending the fake smiles, maybe that’s what’s so good about all those girls, knowing they are liars just like myself, that they too hide it up there on the top shelf. Out of sight from there own boyfriends who’d no longer be there if they knew about that drunken night ….not saying its right but I do have a hard time seeing the difference of black and white, some people don’t, some girls tell and sit and cry while there boyfriends yell. Maybe that’s why people smirk when I tell them my tattoo means faithful, that’s swell you lying motherfucker you’ll burn in hell….maybe so asshole but ill certainly enjoy the heaven each one of these little angels bring me! This world in which fiction and reality seem the same, the ways we differentiate rather lame. And if you question them they’ll kick you out of the game, put you in a straight jacket till your presumed tame, no longer insane. Judged of course by the thoughts coming from your own little world, the one they with the big brains like to call your membrane. Why cant things be more simple? More plain? Whys everything such a big strain? Shit Watson I just don’t know, member our boy tupac? I think he said it best in nineteen letters, thats just the way it is, count them up my friends six words that can bring all your questions to an end. But now I have one for you, can we call it a night? Is my work here done? Ah maybe that’s two, but I’m rather weary and you ask more questions then there is oceans blue. No we’re not done Holmes, for if we don’t question how will we ever learn, how will we ever change? I will continue to question because these injustices need to change before I can sleep, I can’t peacefully rest my head while mothers weep at the sight of children with no shoes on there feet, while gluttons indulge at all you can eats. While starving men kill each other over scraps of meat, families freeze without heat and politicians run the world through lies and deceit. That may be “just the way it is” but nobody said we can’t change it, we can rearrange it, we can do anything god dammit! Give me the role I’ll do it, how can you just say screw it? There’s so much to be done, hurry up RUN! Hold on there sparky, slow your roll, you might as well be holding the smoking gun how can you explain the things you’ve done? I can never explain it… I guess just call it fun. And with that I’m done, blow the smoke out the barrel of my gun and watch the other silly bastards tryin change things and the even dumber ones try to run… -