Reading through the slurs

If we could only interpret the words coming from their lips. Would it be Happy? Would it be sad? What would they tell us, because after all, a drunk mans words is a sober mans thoughts

READING THROUGH THE SLURS

Life is like being trapped in a bottle filled with liquor, no matter how hard I try to remain stable, I seem to be unbalanced by the complications of this thing we call life.

The world is the container and I am trapped inside, I wish to be free but my mind is intoxicated with the pollutions produced by the opiates of the media industry.

I hide in my shell, this bottle, getting intoxicated and creating a world only I can see become a reality, no guns, no wars, no racism, no knives and no swords.

I sacrifice a piece of my mind everyday living in my own domain, this delusion I created to be separated and isolated from everything and everyone  around me.

In my world, there is no poverty, no confusion, no hatred. The ones that never made it are here, enjoying the moment as if nothing ever happened and so I pour my fifth for them.
When God, will I get the chance to see the end of my hard labor and suffering?
My hands staining of blood, my heart crying for someone, something to listen to, yet noon hears its screams except for me and so I drink the night away, nullifying its pleads from my ears.
No matter how much I drink to restore what was lost, the cries wake me from my sleep and again I find myself in this world of torment, barely able to breath, all oxygen closed off in this world, this bottle that I stay dormant in.

 I am criticized, fingers are pointed at me and they scream I am a monster, I am a waste of breath in this life because I find myself intoxicated often, roaming the night carelessly, screaming to God to let it all end, to be with the ones that never made it back. With each drink that I consume, I know I am sacrificing a piece of my mind, and I know that I will forget my family, my friends and eventually, even myself.

 If you could just try to fit in my shoes, see the things I see (Murder, famine, and wastelands) and hear the voices I hear(No! Make them stop! Make it stop!), you too will one day understand. Maybe somewhat grasp why I am misunderstood

Reviews

i like this, i think that your world is a very nice place to live in...it's fascinating what you describe.