grokeling

Wake up to the realization that you've been awake for seconds, minutes, hours. You've been awake in this warm, dark room and you don't know how long it's been but now you're conscious and it starts again-- the pain, strong and steady, in your chest. You gain consciousness in this too warm morning and your thoughts whir in endless loops because it's either that or face the weight in your chest. Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome but you take it as a reluctant gift-- a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest. Awake, but not conscious. So you think yourself in circles a little while longer waiting for those qui

 The art of growing up, is to pour shots of whiskey                                             into your coffee in the morning to make it through the day. when all you want to do is lie in bed instead, but there’s nothing beautiful about that either.