momentary laps of teasing
There are moments when the only appropriate action is taking a shot and letting the burn infiltrate every neuron and capillary. Immediate pain followed by momentary release. The numbing depression fades as the mind preoccupies itself with something immediate and acute. Empowered with the want and ability to say fuck it and run with it. And keep running. The power to forget yourself and to forget others. To lose yourself in the moment, the emotion, and the environment. An elixir to make sterile moments immediately more intimate. Alcohol allows you the ability to turn your back on sanity and give in to the howl of the unknowable. It is the vehicle needed to travel many dark, twisted highways of the psyche with demonic glee.
I pass an ABC and I get immediately nostalgic. I chase the phantom into a cheap motel as it turns around to envelop me completely. We grope needfully into the furious night, desperately holding on to the notion that a sun won't rise tomorrow. The wreak of gin and sweat. The fumbling and fouling of words and clothing. The sickly pink and yellow glow of cheap, dimming lights. The sweaty, filthy sleep. The pain of sunlight into bloodshot eyes.
I turn into a Publix shopping center just past ABC. My calves burn and my armpits stink. My shirt and shorts are wet with sweat. I hop on the scale, lighter. I pass the Dole. I pass the cranberry juice. I pass the tonic. I end up getting sushi and some green tea. But I act shady at the checkout line, just for old time's sake.
I pass an ABC and I get immediately nostalgic. I chase the phantom into a cheap motel as it turns around to envelop me completely. We grope needfully into the furious night, desperately holding on to the notion that a sun won't rise tomorrow. The wreak of gin and sweat. The fumbling and fouling of words and clothing. The sickly pink and yellow glow of cheap, dimming lights. The sweaty, filthy sleep. The pain of sunlight into bloodshot eyes.
I turn into a Publix shopping center just past ABC. My calves burn and my armpits stink. My shirt and shorts are wet with sweat. I hop on the scale, lighter. I pass the Dole. I pass the cranberry juice. I pass the tonic. I end up getting sushi and some green tea. But I act shady at the checkout line, just for old time's sake.