A retrospective, of sorts.

Waking up from a drunken haze, you realise that you no longer recognise yourself, nor your surroundings. A drunken haze of long hours, traveling, drinking, and far too much coffee. Your hair has grown long, and your beard wiry. Your once blue eyes are now just some shade of grey, your stomach feels fat, and your once leather like jacket looks like crap.

But this is the life that you lead. A life going from work day to work day, event to event, trying to make sense of it all. You can’t. The bartender is probably judging you for having your phone out at the bar, as that beer sits idly in front of you.

Every so often, you look up, and give a smile as you remember a song from your past over the speakers. Sometimes you go through phases — angry ones, sad ones, happy ones, and those ones where all you want is for someone to love and cuddle at night.

You’ve taken to writing, letting the words flow smoothly out of your mind and into that stupid little notes app on your phone. It kind of helps. Someone once said that writing is cathartic, but you’re sure that’s just some Bukowski crap. You turned to google just for a definition of cathartic, didn’t you?

At least you know in the bottom of your heart that if you or anybody else publishes this piece, that someone might call it a half decent piece of writing about how not to live. Maybe one day some sad soul will call this profound, or another meaningless word such as that.

Slowly, you admit to yourself that that is just some narcissistic fantasy. No one will ever call this writing anything. Ever. There was, however, just a fleeting amount of joy brought to you by the idea that someone might say something about what you’ve written. Fucking narcissist.

Continuing onwards in this maze if words, all scrawled down in a hurry, you think about the things you’ve done, and the absolute haze your life has become. Feeling insignificant, you take another sip of that craft beer. Thinking about what you’ve become, and where your life is really heading.

What have you even become?