Now easing out of my mid-twenties I'm beginning to appreciate good, old-fashioned cynicism moreso than I ever have. As I walk down the dingy, cracked streets of this putrid city and take note of the signs of dilapidation everywhere, clarity comes easy.
Life is long, agonizing and uncomfortable ... but at the end of it and when all is said and done, dying is like removing a shoe tied too tightly.
Pull the strings, welcome sweet relief and take in the entire experience of life's end. Sorry it's been such a long and arduous haul, but it's over now and you can rest.
The blood you spilled both yours and others ...
The headaches and long nights spent at the office and those spent arguing with your 'bitch' ...
The times your Dad blamed himself for your financial ineptitude ...
The taste of bad Mexican food ...
The sensation of running over a squirrel for the first time (thump, thump) ...
The strange color on your tongue resulting from a feast of Mike-and-Ike's and other fun-sized candy on Halloween ...
The last breath you take hoping that in some way your life was worth living ...
The decision to take the road less travelled (and henceforth to grimace at any reference anyone ever makes to a Robert Frost poem) ...
The 6:00am smell of ass, Mr. Boston's vodka, bad pot and B.O., all at once ...
The paradigm-shifting account of a crimson sunset over the front range of the Colorado Rockies ...
Make no bones about it:
Life leaves you breathless.
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