Warm up 8/15

Someone once told me of an adage among writers. "Once the pen touches paper, it's all fiction." 

Short Thoughts.

I feel like I am falling apart. 

Pursuing permanent change is a push and pull. 

Some days I am a man with super powers. 

Some days I am a foolish weakling. 

Right now I am in the later. 

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I am going to die someday. 

I'm still not 100% sure I believe it. Like really believe it. 

I can see myself at 55. 

I'm thick like Tony Soprano. I have a bushy white goatee and think white hair. Longer than maybe I should have it. But who the fuck cares right?

My fingers are like sausages. 

I'm rich. I even have a decent amount of power. I've figured out how to live life. Mostly....

I still sit at bars with a shot glass of a brown liquid.

The sadness that has plagued me all my life still sits next to me. 

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