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There's no reason to deny,
That sometimes I cry,
And get in my head,
Have all of these thoughts,
As I go to bed,
Whiskey with water,
Whiskey with ice,
Whiskey alone will suffice,
3 am crisis, existential,
Remembering forgotten potential,
And squandered opportunities,
Changing communities,
Like at&t; to Verizon ,
10 new phone numbers,
And no one to call,
No one to text,
I wanna know what's coming up next,
I need a palm reader,
I need a prophet,
To tell me the future,
If I smoke too much,
Should I get off it?
So many questions,
A man full of mystery,
Who failed all his maths,
But passed all his history,
Wanting to change,
but haven't been able,
Walking on ice,
But haven't been stable,
Been a while since I wrote,
So many things to report,
But never the time,
I sleep when I can,
I smoke when I wake,
I drink when I write,
I drink when I don't,
I wake when I want,
I'll die when its time,
I'll live while I wait.
I'll try to do right,
This is goodnight.
Sometimes I take you for granted,
You get mad,
But just want to feel wanted,
All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy,
But lately you've been giving,
And I've been taking,
I hate the decisions I've been making,
Too late for forgiveness,
When I never asked permisson,
But every moment together,
Is a lesson on bliss,
when we're apart,
I'm like a horse without his cart,
Joyless days come and then go by,
I hope we never say goodbye,
I still remember our first "Hey",
Two needles in a college full of hay,
And our story is one to tell,
Because I couldn't tell if you liked me,
Back when girls thought that I was ugly,
But you found a diamond in the rough,
Someone you could love,
Someone you could trust,
You're the pizza to my crust,
The sauce to my spaghetti,
I've let you down,
and heavy is my heart,
And so it is my fate,
To see mistakes too late,
But wait for my return,
You gave and gave,
And now it is my turn.
Back on the road once more,
The smell of morning diesel,
Of men still hungover,
Black coffee,
No sugar,
Can't you see we're men,
A whole day ahead of us,
Hammer smashing against nail,
Concrete falling like a grey pudding,
Covering every edge,
Early morning, late evening,
Wife estranged,
Kids unknown,
A few beers after the chaos,
Some steaks with the boys,
The smell of barbecue,
Like bait is to fishes,
Hoping for the weekend,
Just to sleep in and drink,
Maybe fish, maybe hunt,
Maybe none, and go home,
See the girlfriend you call at night,
Buy her things she never asked for,
Do more in two days than others do in thirty,
But the Monday looms,
A great cloud of money on the horizon,
Asking you to stay,
But begging your body to quit,
You're a man now kid,
Act like one,
And take your gloves off when shaking hands,
Work ***** but look clean,
And tonight you buy the beers,
And don't complain,
You're a rookie, hands still soft,
Alcohol tolerance beginning to increase,
And the guys are there on Monday,
Bud light evaporating from pores,
Like condensation on soda cans,
Diesel perfuming the air once again,
Yelling, cursing, laughing,
Like concrete pirates,
Ahoy!
The captain shows,
To work lads, to work,
Hammers to nail,
Boots to dirt.
I've never been so stressed,
Born to Christians,
but never have been blessed,
Born to Catholics,
Never once did I confess,
But I now have a confession,
I'm not the man im yet to be,
Not the man,
My family thinks they see,
In reality a pretender,
In all honesty a ***,
Do not return to sender,
Do not ask me where I'm from.
Because I've lived too many places,
Shook too many hands,
Seen a lot of faces,
But never kept my friends.
A web spun by the fates,
But as of late,
It's just whiskey to the brain,
Old fashion's so I'm sane,
And too many cigarettes to calculate,
I'm just too drunk too operate,
Just imagine and I'll illustrate,
It's Saint paddys and I'm parched,
I grab a bottle for the thirst,
Its rough but it's the first,
And then goes down the second,
The third, the fourth
The fifth and then the sixth,
The room is spinning,
Face the mirror and I'm grinning,
Face myself but can't look,
Like the last sentence in a book,
I hope there's a sequel to this novel,
Maybe even a trilogy,
I apologize for my soliloquy,
But I do digress,
There are truths to confess,
I'd like to never be my father,
Or to have kids before I'm thirty,
I'd like a home that isn't *****,
And a wife that will forgive me,
For smoking like a chimney,
After all I'm only but a man,
Who makes mistakes along the way,
But the way to hell,
Is paved with good intentions,
and I intend to live in peace,
Somewhere quiet, full of trees,
Away from the noise,
Drugs, guns and the disease,
Call me what you want,
I just want to be at ease,
Head up high, stand up tall,
As I drop my demons to their knees.
Since I can remember,
we have measured things,
measured our heights,
to look down on others,
and measured our weight,
to put others down,
for succumbing to basic human tendencies,
because we measure beauty,
something no one has,
but everybody pretends to have,
because beauty is subjective,
an internal quality,
that cannot be measured.

Humans have always measured success,
by counting the digits in their bank accounts,
the amount of credit which affords tangible things,
money alone is not sufficient,
it never has been,
to have money,
one must have a job,
but first get a degree,
a degree measures intelligence,
and schools measure how intelligent one is,
intelligence is measured by how much you can memorize,
not common sense,
critical thinking,
or skills,
schools just measure all the useless things,
that can be crammed in one's head,
success is measured by material possessions,
like how nice a house is,
a house is where humans dwell,
success also depends on how nice a car is,
and how many cars one owns,
incidentally, a car is a machine,
humans use them to end their lives prematurely,
success depends on one's job too,
and their spouses job,
how well the spouse looks,
and the car they drive,
also the success of their kids,
kids are selfish copies of parents,
created to continue the sadistic human legacy,
success was, in men, privately measured,
by the length of their reproductive *****,
so they could please women,
women are aliens that men will never understand,
and women measured breast sizes,
their weight,
their beauty most of all,
and I will never know why,
because I am a man,
and will never understand women.
We also measured success by social media,
the more likes the more popular,
imaginary friends behind lit windows,
we measured self-esteem through comments,
and we thought we measured social media,
but social media measured us,
and how much we were worth to others,
but especially ourselves.

We, as a species, were so busy,
measuring everything else in this universe,
like the stars,
and other planets we could exploit,
when we were done with others,
so we could continue measuring things,
indefinitely and incessantly through time,
but in all this counting, this  excessive measuring,
we forgot to measure happiness,
or if we were even happy at all.
There was a boy,
who thought himself a man,
so he went to college,
as men-to-become do,
he got himself a girlfriend,
who did everything he didn't want to.
he left home with no money,
just dreams,
the things that men hold onto,
when they haven't got anything else,
and he studied,
but the schools never gave him the tools,
for him to become successful,
so he failed,
because all great men fail,
but he got his grades up,
a little too late,
his girlfriend pushed him,
and she graduated,
turns out she is a great woman,
with a great job,
a great body,
an impeccable work ethic,
and scarily efficient,
incidentally she is very beautiful too,
and every man needs a beautiful woman,
but more than that,
a woman who will motivate and support,
so he stayed in school,
another year he said,
two more semesters,
10 grand more in debt,
because a man needs a job,
a good job,
to support his family,
as all men will do,
the good ones,
not like his old man,
who's seen the inside of a cell,
more than his own son,
but this person persevered,
wanting badly to become a man,
knowing he had not done so yet,
because he was still a boy,
and he was scared,
as all men are,
he was terrified of the future,
as all men are destined to,
he knew he was far,
from becoming a real man,
and that hit him,
like the first cigarette of the day.
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