And so it will continue tomorrow as I peer back through the corrated artery into what was once my life among what can best be described as the inhumane race.  How laughable it is, the notion that I once believed any of the crap that they spewed out on a daily basis.

 Do good in this life and you will be saved in the next.

Change yourself and you can change the world

 Look for that silver lining

All bull****  If it wasn't would I be here now?  But look at them, scurrying around like ants without the slightest clue that nothing, not one damn thing they do will change the outcome. 

 Am I bitter?  Hell no, I'm just a realist.  You see, it doesn't matter whether I am looking through the bottom of a rock glass, a martini glass, or the bottom of a bottle upended, it all looks the same.  It's like looking into the sun and trying to keep your eyes wide open.  That's what I used to try and do in those days.  I tried to look into the sun and keep my eyes wide open only to find that when I turned away and looked back at the world and the people around me, that it was all still just a spotty mess.

So that is what I wrote about there and that is what I will write about here.  At least here I can look around and there are no delusions of a better life to come.  This is it and what you see here is what you get.  There are no facades, no pretenses, no hidden messages, no promises of redemption.  I like that.  I think most of us here like that.  It kind of makes you wonder where the real hell truly exists, on that side or this.

It is so funny to look back at my friends, or supposed friends anyway,and watch how they grieved for me for a hot minute and then scampered back into the cruel routine of their meaningless lives.

 "So sad," they would say, "so unfair," and then venture off to drown their pretend sorrow in five dollar lattes before going home to change and then meet out later for vodka martinis.  Oh how they grieved for me and extolled my virtues. It's really quite sickening to be honest.  And these were the people I called friends? 

Alas, I had no virtues, no redeeming qualities worth mentioning, I was just a dying rat on the same wheel as everybody else.  Running in circles until my time finally expired and they took my body, made it nice for everyone, including a host of people I had never even seen before, to gawk at, and then dropped me into a hole in the ground to be covered with dirt and a marker to say I was there.  That's what they call life. 

Well, truth be told, you don't start living until you get to this place.  That up there is just biding your time.  It is what comes after that really counts. 

But, I digress, I take another drink, and life, if that is what this can be called, goes on.  Where I wake up tomorrow is anyone's guess.  One thing is certain, in this place you can always count on waking up.  And when you do that hangover will be kicking at the inside of your head like a demonic mule and that sun will be shining directly into your eyes no matter which way you turn your head. 

 And so it goes....