in comes the cold. and we cushion ourselves well. soft edges, shut-up souls. revert back to the corner where it's not demanded that we care or see or feel. we eat, sleep, and go through the motion the day unfolds for us. clock-out, scan cards, sit drowsily until our stop comes...
and really, what for? what is this all for? if all that waits is the great big sleep...the 6ft under rest...
i'm tired of being responsible. i'm tired of giving it the ole college try. i can't find it in my weary bones to give more, do more, be more, feel more, want more.
i administer the magic pill to do its magic trick and make it all glowy sparkly wonderful... but it's as thin as chiffon, i can see the grey seeping through, the ugly blah that is reality...we are born, we live the best we are allowed to, then we die and that's all.
i want to hide in the high, sleep in drunkeness' folds, live in oblivion, be as dumb as a deck of cards...
to be a rock and not to roll...