Thursday, 23 November 2017

The best lemon juice

I've been drinking more than I used to lately
but when I get there my thoughts don't die down they go crazy.

Mistakes and wins merge and spin in my mind.
Don't know what I'm searching for, or what I want to find.

I guess I'm trying to make sense of why.

I look in the mirror and think "do I really hate this guy?"

"I'm putting him through so much stress for nothing less than a salary that fails to impress and shit sleep."

Is this peak? Is this a career? Because all I have is a pot belly from comfort eating and a creeping fear that won't leave my side no matter how much I try. Or drink.

I will say this, it's made me rethink how to spend my time instead of sitting on my arse from nine until... Usually nine.

"But hey that's fine as long as it allows you to climb". But it doesn't. I was given a rope and a bundle of hope and told "figure it out yourself".

In the end I only figured out how to hang myself. A long walk but a short shelf life.

Whether a knife at your throat or a paycheck round your neck to keep you afloat, handcuffs made of gold or a misplaced sense of values to uphold, truth be told, it's really just not for me any more.

If this experience has taught me anything it's taught me everything.

I now know to stay sane, and be the person deep down I want to be again, there's a simple rule to follow.

Unless what you do sometimes makes your heart skip a beat, and the rhythm you play with your hands, mind and feet means you lose track of time, and you are so happy that it just has to be some kind of crime...

don't give all you have to give.

Squeezing the lemon of every last drop is a sour way to live.