Something of Myself

The glass was not empty yet.
Happy hour was on.
1+1
Ironical (1+1 does not always make 2).

At times, 1+1 = 1. Or 3.
I know,
It's a mathematical fallacy.

It was so dark, I could not make out what I was drinking.

It was something.
A burning sensation ran down my throat.
Swirling it inside my mouth, I could feel close to the purpose.

Our purpose is to remember and forget.
Simultaneously.

This is not verse, neither is it prose, so why are you thinking about it?

The music was too loud.
So was the crowd.
The face, familiar.
Motions unclear.
I was looking at myself.
I clearly needed help.
How much 'change' a man can be?
I have shocked myself.
I do not need help.

From good to great? Naah! Just being myself. From JD, Malts, Black Label, Teachers to Royal Challenge, and Royal Stag. It's running all over me. Everyday.

The morning is the toughest.
'Dozer through my head.
Just can't get out of the bed.
Sluggish limbs.
Half-baked recollections.
Words floating around.

I want it to be like this. For some more time. Need some more of it inside me. It does me good - helps me to unpack. Look closer. Deeper. Helps me feel things...

Today,
It is not that dark...
The face is changing everyday.
The lines are appearing.
Life's becoming.
Each passing day brings me closer to the final one.

I am waiting. For the final call. So that I can drink up, real smooth and real fast.
We all know, nothing is going to last.

Bottoms up!