A cynical bastard, even more so when I'm plastered.
I’m over the white picket fences,
my octopus-hotdog days
and suburban sadness is setting in,
I’ve enjoyed my time alone.
Tucked back in the shadows
of my own detached world.
Up here above the trees,
This year has done a number on the world as we know it, and on me for that matter. I have to believe that the pendulum of positive/negative energy has lost all forward momentum and is preparing for the arduous swing back towards reorder.