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Just A Cigarette...


A cigarette accents my lips as I vacate Brooklyn via the L train. The pilgrimage to manhattan is second nature at this point. I let out an involuntary burp that tastes of whiskey. Yes, good whiskey might I add. I forgot I was drunk until that very moment. I now remembered and wished to endorse the move. After setting a course to land myself at the nearest liquor store for more bourbon I mapped out my upcoming thirty minutes in my head. I also scribbled lyrics and thought of the girl that got away. It smelled of death all around.

My past was dying slowly while dancing like a drunken fool on the fingertips of fate.

This is a first hand account of a mind unwound.

Bound to the vessel of fate, Lost in the tide of life.

It takes a lot of commitment and a lot of mistakes to board this vessel. The ship resembles the flying dutchman.

Part of the ship, part of the crew.

Good old Davey Jones must be that addiction that wakes me up every morning with a number of inhumane demands.

His volatility rivals Godzilla in destruction.

The cigarette is nearing its end, as are my

Patients. I hear this woman, no doubt a tourist talking far too loud. Her voice is piercing my very existence. It is almost as if HER INTENTIONS are for all of us to hear her.

Like she payed all of our subway fares and now we are therapists witnessing her indulgence.

Here is the thing they do not tell you,

The easier you make money in the real world

The higher the level of control.

Corporate capitalist butlers,

Running around flaunting their wealth, bowing to less than mediocre women.

These kids graduate college. Then they still do not know their ass from their elbow. Then they are given some job to do something ambiguous, like their job is to “supervise services.”congratulations hotshot. Let me tell you, your face is on a dart board at Corporate. At the first sign of a budget

cut you’ll be tied to a spit. Yessir, they will be Cooking you like a pig during a Hawaiian cookout. Good or bad pal, I refuse to fall on that spear. I refuse to fall on that motherfucking spear. I refuse to fall on that spear.

I refuse to fall on that spear.

Black ships

Black Sails

We sail for Freedom

Ready the Guns…


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