Garrulous in talking to myself I became,
Fearful to a small degree of becoming insane,
The floor I stood on ceasing to be horizontal,
Canted it seemed like the deck of a ship,
The walls became curved,
The ceilings did swell…
Humiliated I became by the rambling nature of talking to the self,
In every whiny lament I saw a self-pitying wretch,
Self-pity was for me my social standing,
This child did not have the balls or maturity to accept my dark past,
I was plummeting into an abyss,
Towards a death I so richly deserved…
I no longer drink hard stuff. I like my beer and wine (if with a girlfriend who likes it). I am sure many can relate. Stick with maryjane, Ed. Love and peace,
Coming to grips with the problem quite nicely. Someone played a cruel trick on a sleeping puppy. But at least, it's good for a laugh and the puppy wasn't harmed.
But you have been well-liked by your many minions, regardless of your condition in the past. There is much clarity in your words these days.
Yea I like the dog photo. I love RUM but drinking too much is like taking a 2x4 and beating myself over the head. However when my buddies and I have our annual college reunions we act like teenagers once again and get semi-plastered. God Bless us all. Amen
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Regis
But you have been well-liked by your many minions, regardless of your condition in the past. There is much clarity in your words these days.
Ron
The photo is priceless, your poem, engaging!
Peace, love and light
Amber
Love ya!
Jane
PS: If you have any old bottles of bourbon lying around, send them my way - for strictly medicinal purposes, of course. Thanks.
Always,
Deborah
EWE OLE DOG YEW !