Holy fucking Christ - is it really 12/31/2016?
How the hell did that happen?
I lost a day. Yesterday I was rendered incommunicado thanks to snow considerations.
Who the hell invented snow anyway? I ever meet that guy I will kill him. Not right away, though - I'll torture him first. Acid in the eyeballs, ice picks in the ears, a severed tongue. Then I'll wait two hours before I finally put a bullet in his head.
Another line I like from "FairyTale of New York" is during the give and take between the guy and the woman.
He says "I could have been someone", she says "So could anyone".
We all do that. I could have been someone. My life would have been better if................ We all look at it from our own perspective but the truth is everybody looks at their life that way.
Delusional. Nobody wants to accept their own reality and rightfully so.
I also did not fully explore another aspect of the song.
"Got on a lucky one, came in eighteen to one, I've got a feeling this year's for me and you; so Happy Christmas, I love you baby, I can see a better time when all our dreams come true."
Everybody knows dreams only come true on LSD.
Truth arrives later on in the song when the man and woman attack each other. "You're a bum, you're a punk, you're an old slut on junk; lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed, you scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot, Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it's our last."
Anyway it is December 31. The last day of the 63rd year of my life. I am thinking it over, been doing so all week. As soon as the lights went out on Christmas my stomach got all tied up in knots. Been there all week.
A fucked up retirement. Cancer.
These things got my head swirling.
I am not ready but I can't stop it. Midnight will come, a new year will begin, my 64th year of "life" will start rolling along.
Tempting to dedicate 2017 to drinking whiskey in blues bars. Two things that satisfy my soul.
Can't do that, though. That would be like giving up. Then again, if I "try" in 2017 and fail I will have wasted another year, and the supply is dwindling.
I don't know how I'm going to approach the coming year. The tomorrow.
Don't know what I am going to "do" with what remains of my life.
Brain is conflicted. Emotions run strong. Confusion distracts. Disappointment thwarts hope.
Who the fuck knows.