Eighth Installment to FOREVER IN THE DARK & Loosely based upon a song by the Calling, One by One, and Nirvana's Lithium:

Sympathetic Hangover

i find myself at another bar
drinking away the pain
since that is all that i can feel for now
this is not how i wanted my life to be
nor to head down this dark path
but i never had a choice
when the turning point came in my life
i ignored it like a fool
all i ever do, all i ever think about
is how much i want this pain to go away
all this grief it causes me
killing, scarring me into oblivion
i am the owner of a black, dark soul
an empty abyss within' my chest
although it may go on beating
full of life still when i'm not
drained of everything
that i once stood for
faith that became my fate
i feel so helpless
like little child
lost and confused in this world
minus the mature level of torture methods
oh, to be that innocent and pure once more
would be divine
a new heaven to thrive upon
than i could be brought back to life
deep down where i'm already dying
alas, i could never turn back time
no matter how much i desire this
it will never be
as most wishes i make in my life
there is no hope left
with one so dark as me
roaming aimlessly without a soul
the will to go on
no windows to feed my imagination
whatever part of me i have left
i pray that it passes on to the better life
whatever that may be for me
if i lay down to my doom
so it shall be
as long as i can live freely
breath the free air
and be born anew
never to be this person again
for i am through being me
if i were a scrape of garbage
that no one wanted
i would tear myself to shreds
and toss the remains in with the waste
light them on fire
feel the warmth of the flames
how beautiful they light up the night
i feel tempted to laugh
but it's all in mockery, make believe
no point of dreaming of that
believing in what's not there
as i continue to drown myself
in this constant misery
lake of golden liquid
that numbs you and blinds you
all in one go as you go on
everyone around me
those who bother to see me at all
even spare a glance my way
their faces are etched with concern
for my health, who needs it
when i'm so far gone into this darkness?
my physical condition is questionable
for i seem to be withering away
losing weight from sun rise to sun set
along with my common sense
to stop this madness
i don't heed their wary stares
although i linger upon the possible
opinions of me
what others think of me
especially to those who once knew me
if they ever saw me again
would they be compassionate
come to my side and help this poor soul
or be vengeful
and beat me while i'm already down
for the count
increasing the blows to my low self esteem
abusing the blind and beaten
what a low and sinful deed
how i hate them
but this is all i can feel
pain and to all it's glorious extents
degrees of torture
i should consider myself lucky today
which is quite rare concept to bring to mind
long forgotten, having luck and fortune
qualities of life that brought joy
and light into my mad world once
so far, no cruel fiends nor demons
that i may see in this hazy world
when i'm blind from this mass consumption
no brutality to come finish me off
other than my state of mind
another pitcher, another glass full
slapping money left and right
without a whim
until a man with long black hair
with pants that jingled, tinkled
innocent clang of a bell
upon entering a small, gift store
placed himself in a cushioned seat
beside me
unaware of who i am
or where i've been
although i cannot see him
for i am blind as a bat
as much as i used to admit
that in the past
i can hear him quite clearly
almost like as if the sounds he made
as he moved about the tavern
where the only sound made
in a silent field at night
with all of its inhabitance
fast asleep and in peace
the clank of something heavy
clicking and snapping at the hinges
like a case of sorts
calculating and gauging
all of these observations
sounds like to me
like i've got a familiar beside me
someone of whom i met in the past
how do i remember these things with ease?
behind blind with only a fictional world to guide me
through it all
taught me to trust my instincts
based on what i heard
and not be deceived by what i saw
i am quite bewildered as to why he's here
this infamous guitar player
famous for the plucking of delicate strings
within' a wooden case
creating harmonious notes from the heart
such sounds that tug at your heart strings
play at your emotions
oh my, what a sight this must be
for anyone who knew who we were
i wonder to what i owe the pleasure for
of having the great, famous
el mariachi by my side
silent is he as i observe
through my senses
measuring him up
my protective barriers
no attempts to form around me
keep me upon my toes
for any signs of danger
but, the mind numbing liquid
had lowered my defenses
making me too wary
to bother with such a worrisome task
even if my life wad depending upon it
i did not have the strength to fight him now
but when i do, i will challenge him
if i'm up to it and have the strength
although not as determined and sharp
as i once had been in my many years
of madness
i seem to be losing my touch
my grasp upon causing others pain
allowing them to suffer for my horrors
getting high off the rush
that is never more
i sway upon my high horse
this long legged chair
too high from the ground for my taste
the world around me, this tavern
seems to keep spinning
never ending rotations
very agitating to the nerves
man, am i in no condition
what a poor state and fool i am
to be this weak
and allow my inferiors to see
what i have hidden on the inside
arise to the outside
both never breathtaking to gaze upon
repulsive are both sides of the coin
silence and the buzzing in my head
like a thousand wasps entrapped in their hive
never ceasing to shut up
those voices grinding upon my nerves
digging under my skin
driving the arising warmth in my blood
to new heights
effecting my blood pressure
already at a dangerous high
from overdoses of alcohol
soon i am going to lose it
which is normally around the time
i black out and all is lost to me
my mind shuts down
and i remember nothing
only to awake to a blinding hangover
that i don't deserve, which is ironic
for i drank to receive pain
and feel something in return
christ, that damn guitar player
will just have to wait his turn
to be dealt with
i'll be coming for you, el mariachi
as soon as i recover from this horror
that i call my life, my remains
a dead corpse still kicking