Kicking a habit is easy, all you need is motivation. But, with the detox comes a cocktail of emotions. With this post, I’m going to share with you readers, where I am at.
The love that every often seems a grasp away, is yet a grasp away. And, with some weird luck, I’m passing off as a non-anxiety ridden person. No thanks to drugs and all hail ‘el musica’. For its been quite some time, that I’ve quit the ‘anxiety pills’. If I’m right, it did more harm than good.
But, one look at the mirror, I’m happy. Tired truly from the work, ready to hit the hay. A lesson learned, from the loss of a gig. A high profile gig, turned sour. Thanks to many, especially that one girl who is all cute and smiley – but when it comes to work she is a tortoise, in a rat race.
How did I mess up?
To be frank, I fucked up the opportunity. Wasn’t prepared to handle the workload. And, all thanks to her no one to guide or coach me through. Damn you gal!!!
It’s just making me Hulky!
I made wrong choices, one of which was self-delusion and medication. Upping the dosage reversed the reaction. Anxiety returned like a monster, in the pretence of a self-confident – walking tall bloke.
If it were no more regrets
They say, regrets don’t matter. But, let me break it open when I’m sober. Rushing up, without proper gear and army – doomed to die be it Cap America or Bruce the Lee. And, who was I?
One strong one weak?
Speaking in the local language, and occupied in the rat race – I have become distant with English. No time to read, the half-finished Paulo Coelho still staring me silly! I take a look at my words, are they mine? Is this my style? Has it been corrupted from other formats. In the name of SEO, traction and other BS?
Nothing more to complain, there I’ve written more than 300 words, that’s ought to satisfy the bots. Damn scrawlers spoiling my ramblings. Nazis ruining my thought flow with rules.