Kicking in Circles

There seems to be no end to my binge like behavior. The slightest invitation is the best excuse to crawl out from under my bed with great zeal into the arms of the burning night and sometimes the daytime under the fog of substances and booze. From the teens, to 20's, to 30's and beyond, not sure I can imagine my current hellbent zest for life continuing with such determination, yet at this point in life, it has become a matter of understanding what drives me, experience has offered its gifts and dark hours as well. Taking a break for one day feels like a victory, a week, almost unheard of, yet after recollecting on the past fury and near falls, the next day hangover does not offer much in the challenge department. Granted, I do not desire to go into a full blown narcotic stupor; the come downs are way too intense these days, until the spine stiffens and the clouds burn away from inside the brain, confidence builds as well as the need to speed things up around the Miller residence.

Planes, work sites, hotels, are followed by an assortment of bars, television, and occasionally sleep, may not always be the proper way to live life, but at this point there is very little left to do but fall into some religious based transformation rebirthing as a brill cream lathered, fear laden, flesh zombie, infected with the virus of mediocrity, incentive to write is key, the pain between the inspiration and the exit chute to reality is the only time left to express emotions, visions, and ideas on here. A quick window that closes the better I start to feel, when the writing is good, the corpse pays the price, but when the body is well, the soul suffers and so the circle runs round.