there’s at least one drop
at the bottom of every bottle.
enough for a mild shot
to inflame a lifeless tongue.
lessening the light from
an already dull bulb,
this solitary shot
for there had been none.
relish the quality of each drop,
before their departure,
i’ve taken a shot.
i’ve given a shot.
i don’t own a firearm,
and i’m certainly glad my arm is
not on fire.
my bottle is my gun,
but at least we’ll recover
from its damage.
our health does not benefit,but experience might.
you may regard the hanging over
the wire to dry as a negative,
but experience has been taught.
it takes but one shot to see life.
recovery is decided upon
it’s been dry here.
so dry that mention of a cracker
brought moisture to my lips.
i was parched and began to feel dizzy.
i walked up right,
but the spins spun,
tracing the circles of craving,
wetness a conclusion to
a hypothesis of patience.
surely i will survive.
we all, thus far, have survived.
every second that passes supports
duration exaggerated by impatience.
time lengthens the petulance of yearning,
while devouring the steadfastness of will.
the will succumbs under the foot of habit,
or maybe it is will’s nature.
there is no habit but that of the will.
i do not wish to deny
i must seek what i need.
i must get what i need.
i am must be what i need.
now that i’m full,
i can be happy,
until the next time.
my thirst seems to be unquenchable.
no matter how much i drink,
i’m compelled to drink more.
i’m out of drink.
now i’m reduced to pouring
the backwash into one central container.
i feel disgusting,
but i’m so thirsty.
these crackers are dry.
they suck the moisture from my mouth.
luckily i have drink at hand.
but to be honest,
this drink leaves me dry and wanting.
so i continue the consumption,
luckily, without the tb.
i suck at my own tongue for moisture,
and all i get is dirt.
well i think i’d be happy if i got actually dirt.
maybe they i could plant something useful.
i’m all the above.
it’s in a matter of drink.
A grab a glass and my favourite drink.
I pour it to the brim.
Slowly, I begin to sip my beverage.
I get about half way when I decide I’ve had enough.
I leave the glass where it is.
I don’t need anymore.
A person notices me just staring at the glass.
They ask why I don’t bother finishing this half empty glass.
Another comes over and tells me it’s still half full.
I look at both of them as say,
why can’t it be both?
Forget it, I’ll just finish it off.
At least then we know what it is.
I thought of cutting my toenails, but instead I chose to drink. Why? The reasons not to outweigh the reasons for cutting my toenails. If I received the same pleasures from cutting my toenails as I did with the drink, I’d cut, less trim, my toenails everyday.
Considering both options, I’m not seen by people, noticed even, therefore I can chose one over the other with a sound mind. Secondly, as stated before, the drink gives me satisfaction not found in cutting toenails. And thirdly, and probably most sadly, I like to drink. Upon drinking I’m not imbued with special powers or feelings, I just enjoy the staggering mindset. My consciousness already falters under the indirect pressure of the world. I think and feel this allows me to accept more readily my mind’s unsteadiness. I hope one day to accept my teetering mind as absolute and irreparable.
I enjoy these moments, for they give me the ability to traverse my thoughts uninhibited. I’m sure other people supplant this self-consciousness with doctor prescribed medication, but I chose to use a readily available and majority consumed elixir. Of course some might need the doctor to aid in their preservation, but I don’t think that I’m wavering that much. Plus, I think that it would not be as natural to take a pill that alters who I am, unless of course I am in a position to harm myself. But since I am within my faculties, I don’t think the harm that I cause myself is enough to require a doctor’s intervention. Surely someone can say that to drink is a problem, and yes it can be, but all things without moderation leads to, in my opinion, to negative behaviour.
Anyways, I have no authority into what people chose to do with their time, especially when I take the drink that servers in numbing the masses. So if you find yourself choosing between what one must or what one wants, consider the repercussions. I’d not be drinking had I needed to display my toes.Okay, if you’ve made it this far I must commend you. I’d have assumed you’ve got to grab a drink by now, and if you don’t drink, whatever you find titillating or at least accommodating. If anything can be extracted from this bit of wording is this, vice within moderation should not be seen as a bad thing. I’m sure I’m imparted many a bad things within what has been typed but I guess that depends on who reads this.