Tales of a Drunken Cabin Boy #7

Entry from 3-16-16

For Whom it Concerns (A "Tales of a Drunken Cabin Boy Chapter)

For Whom it concerns, I am not sure what home feels like anymore. A ticking repeats in my head edging notion to never stop in my tracks, I wish to follow, yet I am held back.

Yes I said it, I feel held by restrictions that once did not exist, but recently developed over a course of time. Where is the start of the timeline?

Opinions, actions, thoughts, and the worst of all, my imagination, are monitored for the sake of what is around me. Have you lost faith in the Cabin Boy? Has the young man who spoke his mind and abolished discouragement sold out to the chains of "normal" society? I know not of how modern civilians make it through days of repeat, like a s****y iTunes shuffle.

I will not fall in line to those around me. I am fatigued of everything I wish for to be questioned. It is no longer an option. Permission offers "no" as a possibility, so I will not be asking.

For those who love me will need to accept the choices I make and steer from dreading remarks such as "why" and just let me do it, goddammit.

The bold line is, I am beginning to despise myself for the other people in my life. 18 turns to 70 before thoughts of waking up to be 40 occur.

My conscience should be my ally, not anyone else's. Plug The New York City Dolls back into my veins, hand me a copy of "Hells Angels," don't question my sobriety. If you do not accustom, good. For those who disprove my actions, good. The calendar of life has my day of judgement marked. Society, friends, and family will not be the jury.

For whom it may concern,
Leave what I want/do the hell alone.