The Drain/Ghosts

Life seems to be comprised of cycles, a swirling pool that spins round and round until you're finally sucked down the drain. Perhaps you hang on like a hairball until someone calls a plumber to clear the path you are blocking. Wow, doesn't that sound so delightfully pleasant? Each revolution round the whirlpool seems to bring me back to a time and place and/or to a person. They are older each time and a bit further from the glitter of our inital introduction. We don't fully recoginize each another. The whirlpool spins us round another time. Each time, the original picture fades a bit, until all is black

I went through a rough patch a few years back and that's putting it lightly. I'm generally more prone to exageration than understatement, but for this paragraph, I shall embrace subtelty. This rough patch if you will was a very specific bubble of existence for me with a group of people, a drinking problem (aka drowning your sorrows) and a feeling of death. I died inside. My life ended but my feet kept moving and my heart kept beating, but make no mistake that I died in 2003. Ok I'm back to exageration. Was it 2003? I'm not quite sure. It's all a blur at this point.

"You left my ass in Arizona with 15 bucks and half a corona" and needless to say, I ran into your ass on the street the other day and I cringed with every uncomfortable muscle in my body. You smiled like it was good to see me. You are so oblivious. It is not nor will it ever be good to see you.

So please, if you see me on the street, there is no need for a hello, because I am a toddler crawling through my second life. You are a ghost from my first. There are good memories that wash down the drain with the bad, but that which as gone down the drain is not meant to return. It drifts away to the sewer or the water treatment plant. Perhaps it shall live again in a glass of drinking water or an ice cube.





Now, I... I was reborn in 2007