have you ever felt like on some level, there was someone somewhere, or something somewhere, that somehow protected you against the things that you didn’t deserve to experience?
but for the past 5 years i’ve felt like there was some overlying force that prevented me from losing it. I had to actively keep track of it and make sure my stoned stupour had to be broken once in a while to check whether i still had it near me, with me, by my side.
and then i lost my wallet.
i’ve composed a short verse for this solemn occasion:
I don’t know where you are
and i don’t know what you’ve become
or what’s left of you.
its a tragedy is what it is
to never be able to see your faded white spots
or your un-buttonable buttons again.
soon i’ll be replacing you with another
what am i talking about,
i already have.
that’s what you get for leaving me.