And Mountain Goats help me get through another day.
And I'm up to 48 hours since the last shot again.
And I had dinner with S and I know it's hopeless and I know that there's one true path to love,
and it could be done, there's no mystery, just a decision to make each time I thinkof failing.
Will I fail or will i succeed?
(I played video games in a drunken haze,
I was 17 years young)
Washed out the Nescafe bottle with its metro traces.
went to Muddy Farmer and had a rib fillet, two for one tuesdays.
Old men sozzled shriek "You could be a millionaire" to you as a greeting at the bar,
their conversation limited to what the keno screens say.
And I can choose (to be) the old man at the bar or the grumbling husband with kids, grumbling because you know you made the right decision.
S said of herself "I take so long to make decisions, I just tag along with what everyone else is doing". I remind her that she has made her own decision at long last, leaving. Wry smile, she farts outside the pub having a cigarette and reminds me of when I'd squat down to have a shot and fart, then jump embarrassed away, like my pants were on fire "Well I guess they were"
The woman is so perceptive in a way I don't have, "So over myself" as she says everytime I see her. She is still beauty to me, but fallible beauty, delicate and precarious.