My shoulders are tables for people to put crap on.
So I’ve been feeling like Atlas, but without the coolness. Or the looks. Or the muscles. I have cracked bones and bruised skin. I have a vacancy sign hanging behind my eyes. Were that space occupied I might find a solution to what I know is a problem. I know how to hold a problem and just stand there.
So I believe alcohol ownership is better than having a pet. You can carry both around, but one needs attention and money and patience, while the other needs your misery, which is far easier to provide. The other needs love.
Being burdened and alcoholic is one hell of a crutch for one hell of a life. If I ever loved anything, it’s a crutch.
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