Tags
allcoholic, angst, bukowski, clarity, despair, drunk, empty, gen y, pink floyd, shallow, success, twenty something, yearning
1 am.
And I don’t feel like myself.
Life is a never ending journey of guess who. We are all pretenders.
You with your four bedroom, two bathroom monstrosity. Your pedigree, adoption certified family dog in the backyard…. Do you feel like a success? Have you made it? Do you feel like an adult?
When your thirteen year old step daughter asks you about the future and you try to fill her with hope, do you believe it yourself?
Do you ever look around? Social media is the poison of our generation. We worship our numerical friends list and the numbers in our bank statements and ignore the few branches of human contact that reach out to us. If it isn’t on our smartphone it isn’t real.
Behind the mask we are all afraid. Afraid of who we are, afraid of where we are heading, but too fucking self absorbed to get off the ride.
Shorter of breath. One day closer to death.