“You used to be fun.”
And sometimes I do
long for the bottle that
obliterated my dark-
ness. It used to work.
It’s terrible how some-
thing so evil is the
thing that allowed
me to be fun. Ter-
minate this carcass
that used to be fun.
“You used to be fun.”
And sometimes I do
long for the bottle that
obliterated my dark-
ness. It used to work.
It’s terrible how some-
thing so evil is the
thing that allowed
me to be fun. Ter-
minate this carcass
that used to be fun.
Alcoholism, Depression, Failure, Isolation, Poems, Poetry, Take Me To The Hospital
This entry was posted on July 18, 2011, 11:01 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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Stillfugue |
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#1 by Carl D'Agostino on July 19, 2011 - 2:10 am
I thought I was having fun. It was a desperate attempt to fool myself into having fun. The fun was flavored by a lot of not fun.
#2 by Carl on July 19, 2011 - 9:10 pm
Yes. When I was barely conscious, I’m not sure if I could have defined fun.
#3 by scribbla on July 19, 2011 - 2:23 am
Well said, Carl. Well said.
#4 by Carl on July 19, 2011 - 9:12 pm
Thank you, Andrew. You are very kind!
#5 by pattisj on July 19, 2011 - 11:07 pm
Trying to be “fun” to the detriment of all else isn’t fun for very long. I suppose the one who made that statement–you used to be fun–was looking for company for their misery. I’m glad you’re an over-comer, Carl.
#6 by Carl on July 20, 2011 - 10:17 pm
Thank you Patti – You cheer me on!
#7 by Kay Camden on July 20, 2011 - 9:49 am
“Fun” to others, depending on the nature of those others, can sometimes be self-destructive.
#8 by Carl on July 20, 2011 - 10:21 pm
Yes. The true fun is deep in the heart without any pollution.
#9 by Evelyn on July 21, 2011 - 7:46 pm
So very sad. This place touches the sorest of spots with insistent pressure.
#10 by Evelyn on July 21, 2011 - 7:47 pm
I meant piece. true tears over this reality.
#11 by Carl on July 21, 2011 - 11:08 pm
Thank you for commenting. I appreciate it.