Wednesday, July 16, 2014

My Life: now in confusing prose.

I've been scraping and nicking my knees along rock bottom, fighting and screaming ensuring I don't get caught. All people are trying not to get caught. Life really does suck.

Refutation of my frustration of my own successes. Successes are social media posts while failures do not exist:  they are enhanced. Enhanced from nothing. Nothing is still something because it exists. This is my life. Success is how I feel 

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with my love. Love. Love. Love. LOVE. Sheets only block us from each other when we move close. Sleeping is easy. Waking up to you is like Christmas-- until realization of the dreaded stress of the day. You are the presents on my Christmas morning and shield me from the stresses of family, being snowed in and cleaning the dishes after the meal. We are voices of reason to each other. You help me from making poor choices

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alcohol. I thought I was exaggerating my addiction. Drinking is as natural as driving on a road. Both activities are thought easy to quit but to Mr. Man quitting driving after 40 years and never taking any other methods of transportation is difficult. Quitting is not a journey. Do not call it a journey. Alcohol is amazing to me when I am drinking it. But any other time is

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WORK. Saturday 9am: By myself at work, shaking, trembling, hiding tears from customers. Withdrawal. 1pm: Coworker. Hide it. Darken. Goodbye. My career will not be

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work. Work is... fuck. Friends are here though. Wasted time for money though. Though it is all worth it 

because

home to you my dear. 



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