Certain things are true, certain things are not. For instance, when we were all told during elementary school that anything less than 8 hours of sleep is criminal, not a single teacher was lying about anything of that. Simply, a lesson learned after you finally decide to take off a pair of shoes an adolescent should’ve been wearing this entire time.
Because, Father Time is undefeated and will remind you of his infinite strength through every ache you feel in your retrogressing body. A battle you, nor any one reading this right now, will win regardless of what we do to shield our temples with several extra years of Life.
Think about it. When do you ever feel like a jumping jackrabbit jacked on a line of cocaine after 10 p.m. while having a few drinks of Dr. Pepper on the rocks, splashed with tears of a popular drunkard we all know to be the one and only, Captain Morgan? Yes, I know, excessive! But, the answer is never. Ever. And, if you feel as if you ARE the energizer bunny? Think again. It’s alcoholic sorcery.
Nonetheless, all drugs and nippitaty aside, your body wears out as your day moves along at whatever pace you set it on. Embedded within our minds are clocks bestowed upon each potential master (everybody) of Peace and Prosperity, the two P’s of life that don’t represent urine on your pants leg after crapping your underwear. And like any other physical clock present somewhere beside us, if it’s set on the wrong hour you’ll become lost. Confused. Late to all events you’ve promised to show up at. Worst of all, you’ll never be at the right place, at the right time, left behind in countless events until the next day you decide to fix it…
Now, why would you want to do that? Removing all possible rays of sunshine nourishing your ailing body with what four walls deteriorate? Why would you want to deplete yourself of the kind of restful peace you can only gather inside of a field of dreams disappearing as soon as you somberly wake?
Who knows…
Everybody has their own reason. Reasons most likely unsolved in a realm of Limbo where Sorrow and Insomnia share a thrown together while grinning like a Cheshire cat high on catnip. A realm you must infiltrate from the inside in order to retrieve your adored treasure chest filled with every jewel you’ve been looking for.
But, how? Maybe, by closing your eyes. Breathing. Allowing your pain to pass while building on a vision only visible to the inner child inside of you. And, dreaming until it leaks out of your face as blood, sweat and tears from making it out of Rock Bottom…
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