I love the past.
Not only because of the bad and good memories, but because of how I managed to glide through things easily.
all of it is rather unbelievable...
i don’t believe it myself and the thoughts just keep poking at my mind like they’re sticking knives in my brain!
I just want them to stop
they won’t stop experimenting on me
I am not a hamster.
regret is on my mind and alcohol seems to be my only friend
no one understands my pain of what Im going through.
they just wouldn’t understand.
the kids look at me as if I killed another man.
but here I just walk on a straight path that leads to nowhere
the never-ending road with the white light at the end that I can’t reach.
no matter how fast I run, no matter how intelligently I think, it goes farther and farther away.
the daily thought that rests in my god-forsaken mind is when will I ever go home?
when will I experience the warm feeling of returning home after a long day and seeing loved ones?
take me home, alcohol, take me away to the sweet paradise of liquor and whiskey that I was destined to go for rehab
I’m sure everyone there would like me.
the next thing you know I blinked my eyes and I was strapped to a wheelchair.
my hands moved by themselves and I felt a shadow loom over my shoulder
it was a nurse in a white gown with a red and white hat
she asked me how i was doing and I replied I was doing terrible.
she reassured me I would feel better once I got to the hang of things here.
socializing she said was the thing to do.
I didn’t learn of her name but I’ll remember her by her firm feminine voice.
her voice was rather comforting, just listening.
to her made me feel like I was actually talking to someone who could understand me.
I wish I could have spoke with the unknown nurse more, but she was already occupied again.
the moment she was gone, that light I see at the end of the lonesome path I walk disappeared.
I came to my senses and noticed the neatness of the rehab center.
someone with OCD would embrace in joy seeing this.
a man in a blue suit walks in with a silent expression, eyes down and face forward
he pulls a chair out of darkness and sits in it unpolitely
then, his eyes come into contact with mine, as if they mean to startle
i glance at the man with pursed lips, then i notice he has a card.
but the card suddenly snaps with callous fingers releasing the card.
"this is you. your life, your everything. you became an alcoholic, hamster, and a alcoholic. you have no family, and you have nothing. all you own is your past, present, and future."
looking down at the broken white business card, i imagined the card from the man's analogy as my own life.
piecing it all together one by one, it all started making sense.
i can be something from nothing, i can have something, being born with a purpose.
from nothing to something, i am me.
the strange chat with the peculiar man changed the train of thought going through my brain.
suddenly i no longer felt the needles poking at my brain, i was reassured in being a better person.
my bones suddenly became thicker with the covering of more addition of healthy fat.
the dark cloud slowly disappearing into the moon...
from the days passing by ever since the interview, i realized i had changes happening within me.
my paradise of whiskey and liquor was no more, and my brain married a new paradise: freedom.
when you think of the past, it's a place you'd like to be in for sometime unless someone snaps you out of it.
mistakes are just old memories and scars
