Worry is just a state of mind, at least that was what I thought at first,

I would sit down on the porch and wonder when my worries would end, would they ever end? Would they?

My story began

Different glasses of tequila, to drown the pain. The bitter sharp taste didn’t soothe the pain, it just made me stronger

My hallways thicken, my visions blur, I sat down on the bar stool thinking about her…

Voices in my head began, telling me things I could not do,

My heart started to race and I felt immortal

An hour later, I lay down beside many cups, the lights are dim, the bartender waiting for me to leave

I take whatever is left, and leave, stumble,

And then I fall…

Will there ever be hope for me? I thought to myself, or will my worries drown me deeper than this drink has.

Eyes shut, days over.

New day, new beginning, on the road, looking around, wondering if I had hope

Thinking of the home I do not have

Staring at people for a quarter, or some money just to buy some more booze

Eventually people pity me, give me some money

The process continues…

Story of a homeless man.

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