I haven’t been turned on in awhile, because everything had been tied up and left for dead inside the rooms of my heart. That’s not an environment when one feels anything, as so I felt nothing and everything in my life took on a sickly grey hue and none of the booze worked and none of the cigarettes worked.
They had always worked before though, and like any person who is suddenly confronted with the truth that their religion isn’t working anymore, I prayed harder, or in this case drank harder in the hopes that what worked before would start working again. Then I could get my life back on the road and get feeling things again, even if all of those things would hurt.
Then I got sick. I thought it was the week of whiskey but it was something else and it knocked me on my ass and laid me up in bed for a few days with nothing to do but hurt and sleep. It was just what I needed and if saved me a whole ton of money. I emerged better, and lighter. A rebirth.
The rebirth is still fresh, and the fingers don’t fly as well over the keys yet. But that will come back. I have hope in that, and that’s something that I didn’t have before. Do words written with hope sounds better than ones written drunk? We’ll find out. It’s time to find out.