let's chase the dragons instead.

isn't it strange, given all the wealth of experience you have, you still never catch the flying shit hurtling towards you at breakneck speed in your rear view mirror until the very last moment when however much you swerve will matter no more cos it'll still be 100% contact with said shit, the only difference being the angle at which it makes that contact, which will only mean the degree of mess it'll make on the adjacent people cos of the ensuing deflecting splatter? i suppose deep down, however much of a my-glass-is-half-fucking-empty-you-cliched-piece-of-crud person you are, to be a functioning, or, generally speaking, alive, human being; you'll have to be optimistic in some way or other, that you always hope things will turn out well in the end however much you claim or act otherwise.

it's also an exponential increase when it comes to maintaining the facade of normalcy. it's like herion: in the beginning, you take hits to achieve the high that acts like an escape from your sorry-ass semblance of a real life; as you go on, you find yourself needing more and more of it to sustain the same degree of high and at the same time you begin to discover the bitter, to say the least, aftertaste that is withdrawal brought about by increasing dependence on more hits per unit time; and finally, you spiral out of control cos it gets to the point whereby it becomes ridiculous and impossible to sustain the level of your indulgence/dependence. cos the facade is just so appealing and sexy and beckoning and sugar and spice and i can't tie a proper splice and everything nice.

but you will still have to go on, you and your fucked up self-righteous shit which you yourself don't believe in in principle but which you follow blindly, cos that's the blinding guiding ideal light that no one really aspires towards because of the sheer impossibility of it all; cos it's just the best thing you have now, which means it's a 'best' on the relative scale but counts for peanuts on the absolute scale, if there be a latter in the first place, that is.

i think it's right on time for the mandatory perennial fuck-up. how predictable again, and how the cue is given and missed even as you are looking hard and expecting it all along. shit comes in many colours and makes, but that makes for a poor excuse of fucking course.