It ain't apathy.

March 23rd, 2012

He spoke dehydrated words that fell lazily in a slur from behind a masked wisdom. 

What's the other option kid? Live slow and safe and boring and eventually die one gray hair at a time like the rest of these tools?"

With the outrageous night of previous trailing at his heels like a hound pup, he climbed back into his 68' four door that was filled to the rear view with empty bottles and drunk strippers. As that steel vessel of prideful shame and ecstatic debauchery minimized into a dark silhouette under a red sunrise and fell into a Friday morning horizon, a crisp epiphany blossomed within and shone through. The fifth day in sequence of my duty to lay in oil and grease for lowsy wage was set to begin shortly without any prejudice to the chemical orgy still battering the walls of my skull with my drunken synapse and yet... to care seemed unfathomable. To continue living by the discipline and structure of social norm seemed absolutely sacrilegious. Dastardly even. The thought alone seemed almost blasphemous. Thus, forward and into the current, the gray film once before my eyes has cleared. Vanished. 

Live fast, die young.