Traditional Drunk

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Image: Pixabay – Stevebidmead

Traditional drunk

Wretched and sorry; blank stare

Last one; I promise

Gosh, there were so many times I cried that it was my ‘last one.’ And I meant it every time I said it, for sure.

But the next day would come and after all the puking and the hangover and the shame, I would forget about the bad times and remember the good.

So there I went out the door, to the local bar to do it all over again. Only this time I swore it would be different. This time I would drink something else. After all, it wasn’t a drinking problem I had, it was a vodka problem I had. Oh, and maybe if I did some ‘other stuff’ while I drank, things would be better…

What?!

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. So, in my defense, I was completely insane. What sane person would continue behavior that led to bad outcomes? How could anyone think I was in my right mind after puking my guts up in the bar bathroom and walking out and back over to the bar for another drink?

Traditional drunk. I was anything but.

***

I am still busy with school work!  Midterms are next week. Philosophy class is going well and I am enjoying the discussions. My CIS (computer information systems) class is interesting. I know a lot about computers, but am learning more about Windows and Office 2016.

Hope everyone had an awesome weekend! I will see y’all around blog town. ❤

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/traditional/

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Disastrous Damsel

 

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Image: Pixabay – ractapopulous

While the lowest point of my life was sitting in a recliner in someone’s basement doped up on pills, there were many previous disasters that dragged me to that point.

I had lost my job, then my house and then the final blow… I lost my children. Surely I could have taken immediate action and changed my ways ASAP.

But first I had to get high and oh yeah, get drunk too and let’s not forget going out to bars and to make bad decisions about people that put myself in serious danger.

What the hell was I thinking? That was just it… I was NOT thinking. I was too busy playing the victim and blaming my life on everyone and everything else.

When I first lost my job I could have probably done the following: FOUND A NEW EFFING JOB!

I could have done a lot of things… but that didn’t fit my ‘victim mentality’ and while I was playing the ‘damsel in distress’ I was really a disastrous damsel spitting hellfire and burning every bridge I crossed. That life seems a world away now. Thank goodness for second chances.

Disastrous Damsel

Disastrous damsel; wicked and free

Who is this angel you pretend to be

Blackness is your state of mind

Your screaming soul, so unkind

Is this really who you are

Or did your game go too far

Take your breath and suck it out

Breath back in without a doubt

Life really can be joyous and true

Have faith in love and have faith in you.

People really do change… they just need a really good reason to change. 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disastrous/

Daily Prompt: Edible

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Image: Pixabay – Pezibear

Edible is the lover

Who gives way too much

Edible is the enabler

Who takes all the time,

Edible is the innocent

Who forsakes all others

Edible is the martyr

Who lays it on the line,

Edible is the lonely lass

Who sits alone and festers

Edible is the drunken lush

With an empty bed and beer stein,

Edible are you

And edible am I

Edible is anyone

Who doesn’t see the signs.

via Daily Prompt: Edible

Pluck the Pansies

 

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Image: Pixabay

 

When I was little, I was a kid. And when I was a kid, I did things because I wanted to do them. I had no insurgent idea about right and wrong or good and bad.

I just was.

Others instilled inside of me the fears, doubts, hopes, dreams, love, hate, good and bad that leaked inside me and I carried this into society as I grew.

That’s how it goes.

One day, I was standing in my grandmother’s yard, awed by the beauty of flowers by the front step. Their bright petals with the dark colored faces stunned my thoughts as I stood motionless; the beauty captivated my little mind and I needed to be closer.

I bent down and smelled the brilliant blooms and just like that, I plucked the delicate flower from its bed.

I plucked it for my own selfish needs – for no other reason. I just wanted it.

I stole its little life.

I skipped away with my new trophy.

I would steal flower lives intermittently as my life swirled and changed. They were so pretty, so magical.

I wanted to be like the flowers I picked.

Then one day long after that day…

It didn’t matter how many flowers I picked.

They would always die. And so would my happiness.

 

Later, after many withered flower carcasses…

I let the flowers just be – as I just was – and I would visit them.

And their enchanting beauty would be there.

Just as I was.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/pluck/

Dash Between The Dates

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Image: Pixabay – Casegrfx

There is significance

Between gravestone dates – life; death

Much more than a dash

Inside the bookends

Birth and death

That little dash

For some

Was not so simple

And hardly lived in a straight line

For others

It was too short

And not lived at all.

©2017 DAMSteelman

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/dash/

Passenger of Principles

 

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Image: Pixabay – tpsdave

A long while back

I was a shitty person

I couldn’t stay on track

Things began to worsen

It didn’t matter who I hurt

It was always about me

I’d drag you through my dirt

and smile happily

These days I am peaceful

I keep my drama very minimal

I now feel I am an worthy equal

And always I am fixable.

©2017 DAMSteelman

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/passenger/