the seconds of this day are trickling slower than usual and my blood feels like treacle pulling on the walls of my veins and dragging on the frayed ends of the synapses in my brain…
I am thirsty… but that path leads to nowhere but misery and pain
these long days lead to longer nights as the weekends remind me that the world slows down to recover in stark contrast to my need to keep swimming or I drown
my feet hurt from to many beach walks and nothing of entertainment entertains me any more, so I sit here staring down a hallway out a glass door to the skeletal arms of winter branches bowing to the breeze
fuck this quiet and stillness
14 more hours till sleep
17 more till wake, and the welcomed start to a new work week to sink my starving teeth back into
40+ more years until this strange dream will finally end and I’ll find peace
but until then
just don’t drink and it will get no worse
and the new dawn will bring back the work that gives my life meaning