There are often days where I sit here, listening to artists like Bob Dylan, and reflect on what a strange life I've created. Is it ok to think of yourself as two people at once? Winter's coming and I can feel the depression creeping up on me again as I enter my sixteenth month without a female companion. And yet on the other hand I enjoy my freedom, presenting me with all the time in the world I need to properly read, write, and illustrate..

I find myself wanting to live a life of excess and freedom. Like Hunter S. Thompson's literary works or one of those billions of videos on youtube of people enjoying themselves with a good time. Is that such a crime to want to be normal somedays? Is it ok to question whatever created the universe as to my reasoning for being on this asylum of a planet?

And say what you like that alcohol isn't a solution, it's falling on deaf ears. There isn't a person with a sane mind out there that doesn't know that drinking is bad for you. It's the same mentality that putting warnings on cigarettes will stop smoking. If anything, the pigs ensure that by insulting us, we'll continue to light up and line their corporate pockets with hard-earned money that isn't their to begin with. But at the end of the night, sometimes it feels good to drift off into a place that no amount of visualization can take me. A place of floating, drifting in a sea of serenity...

This mind of mine will either collapse one day or go beserk, resulting in either suicide or being shot for shooting other people. Not due to outside forces simply, that would be too damn easily. No, when every moment of your life is spent in non-stop thought, it makes you wonder if you'll ever truly find peace. Silence may be golden but to some of us, it's darker than any goddamn night.

And so I drink, Jager these days because my German blood will tolerate it, but I'm also partial to Miller High Life and Guinness. Somedays I chase a wild and adventerous ride, other days people remind me my life's a mess and it brings me to a sadness that most war veterans must feel. After all, it doesn't take a mortar shell to bring you shell shock, sometimes it's living in a world full of nonstop death, destruction, and greed.
... to that end, why should any of us care what really happens in the end? If we're all destined to die in the end, would it really matter if you stay sober or smoke-free? Maybe you'll secure an extra few years but in the end, we all must wait in line before the great almighty. And if you're lucky enough, you might even be able to flip him the finger before he sends you drunken ass to the lowest depths of hell.

At least down in hell, there's going to be a large party... but my luck it'll be full of Englishmen listening to Country music.