There’s Revolution in the Air

It was never supposed to be this way. But then, I have been neither eloquent, nor succinct enough, to ever realistically expect anything different. I have instead reached teasingly for lyrical cadences carefully measured to hide behind and designed to build the rhythm to pull out the emotions in a crowd of hesitant confusion, like ripping a festering splinter from an overworked intellect quickly crumbling. I have fought exhaustingly the blankness of the page, mirroring back the blankness of my soul, desperate to write into creation the successful life I was discouragingly unable to find in the outside world, just so that I would have something that I could actually call my own.  Even if it was only for just a few pages more. I have …

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Where There’s Smoke, I Am On Fire

I wanted desperately to believe her all through another catastrophically dark night of the soul, cutting jaggedly across a continent that I confess I no longer fully understand. I held a dispassionately slipping white-knuckled grip upon late-night promises hastily made in the midst of well-intentioned temporary empathy, even though I feared the very real risk of inevitable reignition because I had been left burning before. And I knew just how much it was going to fucking hurt. First, I was consumed in the flames of the bridges left behind as the conflagration caught hold and raced unobstructed through the tinders of my misunderstood heart, purging the possibility of structural integrity as my world collapsed all around me, leaving behind the undeniable realization that it was my …

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Accountability 1.0

It was always a mistake. Even from the very beginning, the sinfully unstable foundations of that initial connection were already cancerous and mortally flawed.  But when viewed through the lens of uniquely untrue promises and seductively whispered lies, I just could not see it at the time.  And that blindness nearly killed me in the staggering cost of a final tally made amongst boxes haphazardly packed and in the spaces in the web cleared to lure the next unsuspecting victim into the sultry trap of her beguiling deceit. I tried desperately to believe in a fantasy storyline that just was not there.  I naively struggled to build that parabolic castle on the shifting sands of her tumultuous desires, always changing and turning unpredictably in the currents …

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Trinity

I have been fighting the invasive rule of three all fucking night. Three packs of cigarettes neatly stacked, because I knew it was going to be one of those nights- the tickle came early- and I did not want to risk driving out into the world while incapacitated, just to feed the selfish demon of my earliest blatant addiction. Three glasses poured before I could even stomach the idea of sitting down in front of this fucking typewriter. There was already an indication in my head just what kind of post this would devolve into and I needed a few pours of courage before ripping the wound open enough to let these words bleed out into the emptiness of another night stuck here is this mad …

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Choices

It is always just a matter of choice. After the implications, and the complications, and the accountability are all stripped ruthlessly away, there remains at the most fundamentally intimate core a lasting, indelible imprint of an initial decision.  Sometimes, choice is born in the sweltering cauldron of a random moment pulled unexpectedly into focus, hitting unpredictably hot and hard on a blindsided turn of fate’s fickle timing.  Or maybe it comes at you in painfully deliberate increments, creeping in slow and invasively targeted with determined precision. Either way, it will inevitably find you.   It does little good hiding inside a bottle- that soothing numbness is at best just a temporary stall.  The solutions that splash and pour into a dirty glass are just cleverly distilled liquid …

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