As my wife taps me on the shoulder to point out our eight year old daugter on the stage of writhing, screaming younglings thats supposed to be some sort of theature, I begin to wonder if I have overdone it with the coke. I try to focus on her words but they drift off into the air, evaporated before they reach my ear, I try to focus on the butieful face of my daughter, I swear she has the cutest face in the world, she will be a supermodel some day and I know it. She seems to be staring straight at me from the stage, glowing towards me like the beam from a light house stuck in one place.
I am a middle aged man. And Im fucked up. Im like a toddler whos built a massive lego creation on a rainy day for no reason, he just did it, and when hes finally done he realises that it was all a waste of time and it means nothing to him so he smashes it and buggers off.
I ran headfirst through the first 43 years of my life, with no apparent direction other than what I was told by my father. Apon reaching middle age I begin to slow down and I begin to see where I am, and I dont like it.
Im bored with my family and my job. Im bored with extra large mochachinos, and children, and the constant waves of shit crashing down on me from my father and my family. Im sick of life.
My looks and health scale away to reveal my own mortality. So I hit the drugs And now i follow in the footsteps of Jim Fucking Morrison, and I quote “ I belive in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses in order to obtain the unknown “
What Now ??
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