It has been forever. I am unapologetic. Life gets in the way and we flounder about. I raised myself out of the gutter only for life to fuck me once again.
so it goes. Life is peaks and valleys. I became a programmer and learned to love it, only to find myself questioning my course again.
On the other hand. I am surrounded by more love and warmth than ever before. I will expand in the future. For now, a poem. An old one.
This one was from way back in 2014. Do not be too cruel. It was a lifetime ago.
The dead drink
The sheen of gold ambrosia on our lips,
and the song of laughter in our ears,
we drink away the evening,
until there’s nothing left but night.
Such a tragedy is the creature,
that stands alone in the crowd,
Part of the herd but apart from it,
The mask belongs to the masses.
The shaking restrains the hands,
from committing violence against the voices,
that harm with silent ignorance.
There is no want for isolation.
Saccharine smiles and polite words hide,
the sharpened knives and bleeding wounds.
Clashing ego brings harm on the whole,
but no one is willing to sacrifice either.
We drink to forget our differences,
to forget those tears, quietly shed,
to forget those hurts, quietly suffered.
We hold our glasses high.
We collapse into sound and movement,
Too loud and fast to hear ourselves.
No thoughts left, but instinct.
We bring out a toast to oblivion.