I’m not gonna recycle all those old quotes. My own. The ones a year or more old. The ones from a shit dark rainy March and April. Smelled like clean sheets and black coffee at dawn and liquor and cigarettes after midnight. I’d buzz on the fumes of my own ego all fucking day. Give it to me. Full of myself in a twisted high that felt worse than no other. I don’t wanna draw up that sickness again. Cause I don’t give up control like that anymore.
I used to say I didn’t have anything left to give. Lost and empty. Loaded. Going through the motions like a busted ass superhero. Goofy and failing but self assured. Up all night, glassy eyed and hysterical either on grief or attention. All that music stirring up toxic connections and dark turn ons to satisfy. Inviting pain and looking for distractions in everyone but me. It’s a New Day since then. God damn right it is.
I may walk softly these days but my feet are on the ground and my eyes are open. Humility and reality brought me back. So this is right where I’ll be. I’ve still got the world on my shoulders but this time around I’m making it look damn good. Comes down to it, I will always be the better man. I don’t even need to tell you why or this could get personal real quick.