considering bath salts.
You know how bad it gets. When your beard is almost as long as your hair, unintentionally. I am in the struggle, facing it. Most days I can muster enough life to go get a morning coffee at the gas station. Some late afternoons I even ride my motorcycle to the beach to sneak a swim after the parking guard leaves.
I make unused graphic design projects all day as per usual, I am unemployed. I am a retired commercial fisherman who dreams of touring again with Punk Rock bands. Of course I don't play music or sing. Just a dreamer on the periphery of culture who once sold a few shirts. I once loved traveling as a vagabond.
I seek community and friendship but others are less optimistic. This is a middle age funk, a shrink may diagnose it otherwise but fuck them. I got sober but then quit their program. My second child turns seventeen tomorrow but has already found solace and solution in pot.. Not me though, I abstain from it all. Better to grin and bare it then toke and share it.
I am a rudderless man afloat in the world. I imagine vc guerrillas cycling down the hochimin at night while nah champa burns in the porches candlelight. No, I was not in any war and born after the last huey flew out of Saigon.
The air conditioners whir as my family sleeps inside. One can't stop her compulsive buying and ongoing nagging about me working. While my teen is a teenager. We are all treading just barely above extinction but firmly tethered to poverty. Sometimes I just want to relax and surrender. I find myself feeling trapped, considering bath salts.