Interlude

Coke makes you Broke

So here we are at the cusp of step five.  I'm not too terribly sure what this is going to turn out like.  I've gone through and pinpointed the greatest fissures in my life.  I've opened old wounds and picked at existing ones.  There it is, all in front of me, quite literally the wreckage I have waded through, both from internal and external forces.  It's not pretty.  It's not just ugly, it has a mind of its own that is best friends with the film reel in my head.  They're fucking each other they're so close.  What else can I do but try to pick out anything of worth from ground zero?

I suppose I could go on to the bitter end -- jails, institutions or death (oh my) -- or choose to live (LIVE!!).  I have to come to terms with my cowardliness.  That's all I see looking back.  I run away at every opportunity.  I've run away so much that my mind has fractured into alts to help me cope, and getting myself together will be no simple task.  Even if I should find myself whole, there will be tell tale cracks that can never be truly sealed.  They make me who I am, and I'm not impressed with the image that stares back at me in this hypothetical mirror.

And now I have to share this wasteland full of evidence of my every misstep and fall.  I can't say that makes me comfortable.  In fact I think I'd rather eat glass. 

Hey victim! Shall I black your eyes again? Hey victim! You are the one who put the stake in my hand
~Gness and such