Pitchblack
04-30-2011, 07:31 PM
Fog's gettin' thick. Kind'a like when that cool September air used to blow in over the warm water outside granddads cottage. It's weird 'cause you can feel it comin', yet it don't register 'till your half-a$$ed blind' strainin' to make out the old dock lights that'll guide you to the safety of that faded blue boat house. Can't rightly say that it sneaks up on you, due to the fact that you know exactly what your gettin' yourself into the minute you prime the motor and untie the dock ropes.
You won't get lost this time though. Your the great Ulysses, bound to overcome anything that spiteful ba$tard Poseidon throws at you. It always begins with that familiar, fully tangible, tingle in the pit of your stomach. That same one you got when you snuck out of the house in the ninth grade to throwback whatever concoction you and the the neighborhood boys could thieve, unnoticed, from your parent's cabinet. Man, you used to be able to ride that feeling out for ages it seemed. Even relive it for a second or two when you glanced at the grass stained pants you wore that night. Funny thing happens to that feeling the more you chase it. It becomes elusive, like the motorized rabbit at the grey hound track your dad used to take you to. It really don't matter how fast you run. Couple of laps and it's gone, good luck gettin' it back. And just when you line up for another go 'round, in rolls that mist. Surprised? Nah. You knew it was comin', but it ain't that bad this time. Everything's gettin' done. Bill's paid? Check. Son's homework done? Check. Wood split? Check. Hell, you even got a couple of workouts in. Might as well stay on the lake for awhile longer, you seem functional to me. Just as that thought crosses your mind things start to get hazy.
Am I positively reinforcing my negativity?
Has my functionality become dysfunctional?
Ah hell, where the fu(k is that boat house!
You won't get lost this time though. Your the great Ulysses, bound to overcome anything that spiteful ba$tard Poseidon throws at you. It always begins with that familiar, fully tangible, tingle in the pit of your stomach. That same one you got when you snuck out of the house in the ninth grade to throwback whatever concoction you and the the neighborhood boys could thieve, unnoticed, from your parent's cabinet. Man, you used to be able to ride that feeling out for ages it seemed. Even relive it for a second or two when you glanced at the grass stained pants you wore that night. Funny thing happens to that feeling the more you chase it. It becomes elusive, like the motorized rabbit at the grey hound track your dad used to take you to. It really don't matter how fast you run. Couple of laps and it's gone, good luck gettin' it back. And just when you line up for another go 'round, in rolls that mist. Surprised? Nah. You knew it was comin', but it ain't that bad this time. Everything's gettin' done. Bill's paid? Check. Son's homework done? Check. Wood split? Check. Hell, you even got a couple of workouts in. Might as well stay on the lake for awhile longer, you seem functional to me. Just as that thought crosses your mind things start to get hazy.
Am I positively reinforcing my negativity?
Has my functionality become dysfunctional?
Ah hell, where the fu(k is that boat house!