Life

Dr Bai said something very wise yesterday, apparently from a friend in Britain.
Life is a bitch. Life is a shit sandwich. The more of it you bite, the worse it gets.
I thought it was quite appropriate.

Sometimes I feel like the world is hating on me and it's all I can do to pretend that my eyes are dry, my throat is functioning, and that sonofabtch that dwells in my chest is not dancing around the bonfire.
It's all I can do to smile with my eyes, shout even louder and stay as still as I can so as not to spread the flames.

Sometimes I feel like I'm meant to fly. Like if I spread my wings and take to the sky, I would be home. But there's something holding me back. As hard as I try to lift off the ground my feet are stuck so that I'm being stretched so thin I can see the well behind my eyes the glitch in my throat and the anarchy within my body.
I fall.

Maybe if I empty out the wells and spew out the glitch and let out the fire
I'll be light enough to lift off the ground.
But I can't risk it.
Because the weight would always be there.
Without the wells and the glitch and the fire and the monster I wouldn't be able to support it.
I'd fall
And never get back up.