Story from 130809

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130809 00:00

Popping a few pills in the morning was hardly a big deal for me anymore. In fact, it seemed natural, grew from the root of my belief that I lead a worthless life. Being unemployed had it's perks, especially when your days were filled with dreams. Dreams that inevitably would turn to ash, burned by the same poison my throat would willingly injest, day in, and day out. The pubs would remain closed at this hour, because anybody who wanted to walk in, obviously had no where better to be, and if that was the case you certainly weren't welcome at the pub. So I took the long way around, and then did it again, and again, slower each time, in the futile hope that somehow Time would wake up from its slumber, until I finally decided to just go home and have a drink by myself. And that's how it really happened. One glass led to the next, just as my train of thought only stops at a station for a couple of moments, and you the city's skyline was looking so beautiful, I just wanted a closer view, a better look.