My Sweetheart the Drunk

The years get behind me, and yet the women don’t get any older. Attracted by youth. By the young blood that keeps me from turning to stone. Give yourself to another and become their victim. Open yourself up to attack, and fall foul of their blessed opinions. Expectations never fulfilled, you’re always going to let someone down. No matter the power of your imagination or the truth of your vision, you will always be doomed to pale in comparison to those more successful. It’s not love; it’s just a game of pretence. Image matters more. It’s an unpleasant truth, but it’s what unions are made of. This passage of time’s been going on for so long, yet it doesn’t mean a thing. Life is a game of snakes and ladders. Pain and desperation meaning more than serenity. Depression makes. Happiness sedates. Being lost and afraid was the best thing that ever happened to me. It paved the way for a future based on belief, not on complacency. Don’t shackle yourself out of fear. Keep a firm head and stick to what propels you to your dreams. Be driven. Be difficult. Awake each day, and know that the path you walk is ready and willing. Don’t listen to the limitations of others. Deny their weakness, and strive for madness. Get yourself a mantra, and hold onto it. Let it burn. Let it consume everything you hold dear. There ain’t no cheating the stars. Ain’t no skipping to the end. It’s all in the journey, in the endless quest for immortality. A thirst for wonder. For the magic of what we are. The cosmos in a shell of flesh and bone. Neurosis no longer, we speak like kings of the universe as the night lives forever. Breakdowns and birth, in a glancing, effortless kiss. Eternity in a sentence uttered against the pleasureless rest.

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