The Life of Riley

It’s another long, hot weekend. I’m sitting at the desk, occasionally skipping screens, waiting for the local lotto jackpot results to be updated on their website.

Lost in the Milky Way,

smile at the empty sky and wait for

the moment a million chances may all collide.

I'll be the guiding light,

swim to me through stars that shine down,

and call to the sleeping World as they fall to Earth.

Time sure does flies. In about 28 hours of so, June would enter our lives, tho the summer-type weather announced its arrival way before the calendars days did. And as the days wind down, I am beginning to feel more and more like Ishmael, the lead character in the book Man Gone Down (by Michael Thomas). Only, he had 4 days. I am more fortunate – I have about 14.

From cradles and sleepless nights,

you breathe in life forever,

and stare at the World from deep under eiderdown.

Although this World is a crazy ride,

you just take your seat and hold on tight.

I must say I am glad to see last week end, tho I am not grateful for the way it ended. Two days on, the bitter aftertaste is still very much present at the back of throat. And I am filled with dread when I think forward to Monday, and then there’s Tuesday, etc, etc, etc. In short – I am not looking forward to going to work. And unless I can wrap my head around it, cast the issue aside, I am gonna be hating work till... such-and-such a time when...

Blowing bubbles

A whole night of talking in circles,

searching for the reasons to save us,

and keep it all painless.

All the lies you've had to swallow,

just to face the World tomorrow.

The Bear asked today if I was okay. I am not. But it’s a round-hole, square-peg situation. I.e. What can I do about it? Tender my resignation in these glum economic climates? Throw away a possibility that tho fading in its brightness is still my closest shot by far? This is no ordinary situation. And so I cannot respond in my ordinary ways ~ packing it in and calling it a day.

Blowing bubbles it's the final straw,

they never last too long but for a moment

there's perfection floating through an open door,

but if you try to hold it

then it turns to nothing.

The page has loaded, another tenner wasted. I have yet one more shot at Lady Luck – as Ben says: Hang on to that buck of hope! Alas, faith is wearing thin. Seriously and dangerously thin. So much so, I am threatening to unravel these thin threads of sanity and well, ... just well.

Your whole world...

can turn on a moment,

some things can come back and haunt you,

but they're too late to warn you.

I’m trying my damnest best not to make a mountain out of a mole-hill. And in all honesty, I rarely rant – unless it is matters that truly deserve ranting. I do not rave about not having the right car, nor do I take the piss at someone better than. Yet for this one individual – I can find no words to fit as the right adjective. Cos I simply cannot understand nor comprehend.

Drinking in the dead of night,

tobacco clouds that sting your eyes,

you've locked your feelings deep inside,

growing pains that never die.

You need to sweep the picture clean,

and start to dream another dream,

and end this foggy yesterday that still reminds you...

All the lies you've had to swallow,

just to face the World tomorrow... 

I cannot let this happen. I have to wait my time even if it kills me. Cos it is the ticket out of this never ending misery of finding the right place, the right time and the right job. I have to find a way to believe in the opinions of those that matters. To cast aside the opinions of those that don’t. I am not a parasite, feeding on the pats on heads from my circle of friends whom I trust. And so, I have to even learn how to cast aside the lil voice in my head that says “Perhaps I’m truly not the ONE.” In.All.Instances.Of.Life.

So here's your life,

we'll find our way, we're sailing blind,

but it's certain nothing's certain.

I don't mind,

I get the feeling you'll be fine,

I still believe that in this World,

we've got to find the time...

for the Life of Riley.

Someday, the Life of Riley would be mine - a carefree, comfortable, and thoroughly enjoyable way of living! It might not be today (Yups - the last buck of hope gone in a flash!) And I bet you his life didn't have no psycho in it that veers from one extreme to the other, and redefining the phrase "I hate you" in the process!

I just need to get that voice in my head to Shut the F**K Up till then!