"Ms. Meadows, Clinically Depressed Therapist"
There was a time when I could count on an Obama speech to momentarily lift me from my despair, before sinking back to the edge of the Abyss. Now even that brief respite is gone: his words seem empty now, like sad deflated balloons after a birthday party where no one could be bothered to show up. An empty birthday party where the birthday child had cancer. And will probably never see another birthday. Because: cancer. THOSE deflated balloons...
There was a time when I thought I could feel Hope and Change: the feeling was barely perceptible and fleeting, like a spider on the skin, but maybe it was a friendly spider. Now I realize it is all meaningless. There are no Friendly Spiders. There are no Friendly Spiders. There are no Friendly Spiders. Oh, my skin, how they crawl...!
I was a fool to believe Obama's words could save me from myself. Not even the mellifluous tones of Morgan Freeman could save me, now...
I am very drunk, but I will drive to the Liquor Store to get more alcohol. It's OK, I make the drive drunk all the time...
I am Laslo.
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