Life · Writing

The Slight Of My Hand Is Now A Quick Pull Trigger

So it begins…

“Tomorrow”. I said aloud, to myself. “Tomorrow, I need to make a change…to make several changes”. At 3:00 o’clock on a Wednesday morning, I should have been sleeping soundly in my bed. Instead, I was drunkenly lifting myself off my futon, for what felt like the tenth trip to the bathroom that night, and thinking about all of the life changes I needed to make. First on my list should probably be stop drinking during the week, unless of course it was a Thursday. Thursdays were justifiable for no other reason than because they came before Fridays. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken rule that you were allowed to be lazy and unproductive on a Friday, or maybe that was just where I worked. “Ugh, work” I thought as I looked in my bathroom mirror. Not only was my 7:00 am wake up time fast-approaching, but ever since a botched attempt at dating a co-worker, it had become a place that now made me contort my face into a scrunched version of itself when I thought about it. I watched as my face released this newfound expression and noticed the fine lines that it left behind. Unlike the expression that dissolved by my own will, these lines had been working hard for almost twenty-seven years to make themselves be noticed and they weren’t going anywhere”


Title: Pumped Up Kicks – By: Foster The People 


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