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10.20.05
Sometimes, I wish it was as simple as walking off stage from this dramedy that is my life. Throwing down my cowboy hat prop and mumbling "I quit" as I stagger through the soundstage, exiting left in search of the nearest barstool.
I'd drink a strong high quality scotch, swearing like I grew up on the streets, until I pass out. Stumble off the stool in a stupor, hoping some big lunk will rescure me and drop me into a cab home, but not before we share a cigarette and curse the wretched moon for teasing us into believing all is well and bright with the world.
We know the truth. The moon's gravity is slowly working to rectify the planet's overpopulation problems. It lures us out to the earth's oceans, hoping we'll fall in love amidst sandy shores and the crash of the salty waves.
Most of us try to stand there, feet barefoot, clinging to the world with our toes, and sinking. Little by little, until we too turn to sand and dust.
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