Lazy Days Continued…

 “Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection; the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer.” – C.S. Lewis

It is a strange thing, the decor of a jail cell, every where you look or touch there is the imprint of a person trying to recreate a hangover in three dimensions.  The walls are a pale yellow tinged with a putrid green, as subtly acrid as bile itself.  This was the room’s softest feature.  It was here that I began to reflect upon the events that paved the road to this room.  Maybe it was neither the time nor the place to embark on this journey, but that had never stopped me before – prudence.

It is one thing to have a love for alcohol, it is another to have a hatred for authority…

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Hard Livin’ 2…

At first I thought I’d start part two of this saga with a moment of reflection, kind of a “how I got here” flashback sequence, but then I realized that would be un-copacetic to the narrative.  Here’s why, when one is sitting along side the road, in the pouring rain, with red and blues strobing in one’s rear view mirror, and the silhouette of one of Washington’s finest  growing larger in said mirror, one does not take time to reflect.  There are only two words running through one’s mind, the word “Oh” and a word that starts with an “F”, ends with a “K”, and has a “U” in the middle (no, not fire truck), and these words run on a loop in one’s mind like “Smells Like Teen Spirit” played in Seattle from the early nineties, until I put a drill bit through my ear.  Well, whatever; never mind.

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I posted this one on 9.7.11…I am reblogging this entire series

  “By three methods we may learn wisdom:                                 

    First, by reflection, which is the noblest;

    Second, by imitation, which is the easiest;

    And third, by experience, which is the most bitter.”

                                            Confucius (551 bc – 479 bc)

It was around 11p on March 30th some time between 1998 and 2010, I had been over at a friend’s house playing some guitar and having drinks…but in reality I hadn’t done much of either on account of my brain being kinda broken that night.  I left in a manor I generally wasn’t accustomed to, early.  In earlier re-tellings of this story I had attributed this fact to the possibility that I was trying to be responsible (you know, not staying…

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