What started out as a mere smirk and whim for excess has for the past five solid years now been propelling you unbeknownst to this very moment of realization. And lying paralyzed on the floor, hugging a baseball bat, crying and whaling for whom your are certain is your long since past away Grandmother sitting in the kitchen, you find a fixed point in the spinning room and pin your eyes to it, hoping to God that you black out soon before things get really crazy. Strange thoughts crawl up your spine into the cortex of your deepest emotive thought hole and plant themselves there like a cancer that spreads with the speed and severity of lightening: A gnome with demonic property stabs you repeatedly in the thigh with a kitchen knife. The lamp that you bought some years back from the thrift store is oozing with sticky black blood looking to drown you in your sleep. The empty bottle of Russian Standard is rolling around the apartment with an agenda of its’ own. There is no end to this nightmare. There is no hitting bottom because there is no bottom to hit. It just keeps going down and down and down until one of two things occur; your untimely death alone in the dark or the resurrection of yet another day battered and beaten. Eyes swollen shut, joints in disrepair, brain seizures and memories losing traction like a fading television snow screen. 

How did it come to be like this? Who let me step over the line? The curly haired innocent child from the family photos had no idea that this would be his fate. Who are you? Who am I? What road did you turn down to where this was the outcome? Is it in the blood? Did genetics seal the deal? Was it the preacher in you trying to exorcise the demons? Who knows. Does it matter? Here you are. And when the morning comes and you can’t seem to explain the holes in the wall or the blood in the stairwell leading to the basement of a thousand dying brain cells, you pause and mutter quietly to yourself.. oh Lord how long, how long oh Lord. Some people claim to know what lies beneath the dark blanket. But until they’ve really been there there is no explanation. So what happens now? Have another drink. This one’s on me. Roll the dice, play the hand, try to stop floating, try to land. Maybe I’ll see you on the other side. Probably not though. I bought a ticket and I took the ride. Cheers.