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Drunk on a tuesday... by Trey Printer Friendly

He talked of life, and love, and dreams found and lost again.

"I sought truth", he said, and took a drag of his stunted cigarette.

"To live, to love, to lose, to live again. To find what I am made of, the bottom of exstence.

Lie's, so much easier than truth, so much safer. Who has the strenght to see clear. What we are, who we are. Lies are what we crave. Affirmation, gaurantees, a future laid out in picket fence perfection. All clipped grass and the sound of giggling children discovering life in ignorance. You are the best, you are the only, you are the one.

Who are we 20 years later but a well of forgotten dreams. Failures flopping forlorn in the puddle of our past. Echos bouncing around the empty areas of our skulls.

Youth? An illusion. We all get ugly in the end. Swollen knuckles, discolored skin, erectile dysfunction. Thinning hair, unnerving growths and a rattling cough that sets the skin crawling.

Truth, capital T. To accept that we are nothing if not our failures. Dreams are pure, failure is reality.

Buy a sports car, get the plugs, trim the odd hairs which are appearing in clumps now. A half assed attempt at do-overs.

Cellulite and sagging skin.

Rock and roll, a tight rolled joint. Not the skank of lesser years, but the true primo mind blowing herb of imagined enlightment. One toke and over the moon. Fuck the cost. Have a real job now, shirt and tie, 9 to 5, more money than your teenage mind could imagine. No more skunk for us.

Memories for food, regrets for spice.

Him, her, words said, words left unsaid. Children grown and gone, children never born, children we wish we'd had. We would, could, have done better with them. Instilled hope and support. Dreams, for us so unattainable, let them know that they are in their grasp.

Bullshit, I say.

Desperation is truth.

We are our failures. Dreams given up. Opportunities left behind.

But I couldn't, but I had to do this, but there was that.

Stop hating your life and start hating yourself, your weakness that kept you from reaching. Your fear, your unspoken desires, your insecurities. Hate, but learn.

Romance the occasional chance taken, mourn the many others left behind.

Regret is failure.

Live, I say. Be true, I plead.

Rage, while the breath lasts!

Teach hope? Hope is an empty promise. Show them strength, give them the a base to jump off whatever cliff confronts them.

Better to jump and fall than always wish you had.

Let them go. Let them be. Raise them to find their legs, legs ready to take the plunge.

A life lived is one of chances.

When the end comes, and dear reader, it will, it isn't the chances taken that are regreted, but those not."


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