The sun
does not get the point; dude the equinox is past someone should write it a
letter...yeeish! Anyhow am wondering about this and that and over there. And
there being no place that memory will not follow, all those mental slides are but
a thousand page album.
So as i sit
down to brood over my breathlessness,
not to forget the sharp jab of a stitch
in my sides i thought to myself, "
is this how Jesus felt on that cross or is this what oncoming death feels
like?"
Needless to
say, as i pondered my failing lungs i
mentally ticked off all those numerous
nights out my buddies and i downed those
smirnoffs , spirits and concoctions and whatever free liquor came our away.
The scary
bit being that if you ask me now who threw those house parties not even the
first letter of their names would I guess, but party, that i did and boy did I
enjoy myself.
So this
failing chest of mine can spare me the drama, for when it comes to drama I am
the drama queen here. And the sun, well it can use the milky way as a noose to
hung on some star that’s a misfit.
Ps: The
wishing stars do not qualify as such
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