Writing... again

I find my mind to be wandering ever so much farther then I could have fathomed it possible in the past. Yet the untouched craters of imagination in my head fail to entertain me. What to do, what to do? I lack the energy at this point to gather together all the clichés of the past, present and future that may exist in my life and glue them into a mentally unreachable colleague of imaginary happiness and call it a life. A life that no one can change my mind about, because if you can’t change my mind it’s my problem not yours… it’s my stubbornness that is taking place and that does not allow any bit of outside intelligence in to the invincible bubble of protection around my thoughts. Heartbreak doesn’t judge when or when not to happen by age, by experience, by the purity of the heart, or any of that other bullshit. It doesn’t judge by who it happens to because the reality of this most unfortunate situation is that heartbreak doesn’t just happen to anyone… it happens to everyone. Anyone with a heart. Being careful with whom you love and what you do only makes it worse and more painful which makes you wonder if you are doing the smart thing or the more acceptable thing… the more approachable thing. The right thing for you or the socially conscious thing.
They filled me full of drink
And led me round the rooms
Naked and cold and grinning
Until everything went black
And I came down spinning
I awoke so drunk and full of rage
That I could hardly speak
A fag in a whale bone corset
Draping his dick across my cheek
And its into the shame
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