Applying weight on the wrong side of the sea saw
As my bank balance sinks into a digital abyss,
my self esteem seems to be reaching limits never before seen.
The sea saw of life,
leans towards a bias of living.
Defined by me as,
writing performing making friends and meeting women,
and occasionally drinking.
Though I crave equilibrium to balance the scales,
weighed down with too much of one and not enough of the other,
and vice versa.
I surrendered the tender part of my twenties,
making ends meat in menial jobs just so I could eat.
Lining my belly DID NOT feed my soul.
So before I became resentful,
I ran,
and here I am.
Skint.
Looking at a letter from the bank.
I've never before considered myself a tease,
but I've been flirting with that overdraft limit,
like it was wearing a short skirt and fluttering it's eyelids at me.
I just can't afford to buy the drinks.
There's a big carpet in the back of my mind,
smothering memories of times,
when I genuinely felt I was a complete waste of space.
A leech bleeding dry the oxygen supply,
belonging to people actually doing something meaningful with their lives.
As opposed to me,
living only to pass the time between work and sleep.
The letter informs me of the last time I deposited money into the account.
At that,
I deposit the letter onto my bedroom floor.
Where it quickly becomes absorbed in a sea of paper,
containing scribbles, ideas and event flyers,
the closest thing I have to a justification for the direction I've taken.
The bedroom ,
belongs to my parents.
My possessions,
are stacked and boxed,
in a corner,
and have been that way,
for well over a year,
awaiting their next placement,
in this permanent state of transition I find myself in.
When I wake tomorrow,
the search for dough begins.
Scouring the net for office jobs,
like a smack addict relapsing.
I knew the risks.
I made the jump,
now I'm in danger of drowning.
If I go down,
believe,
I'm going down fighting,
and If I have to go back and sit in front of a desk too collect debts,
knowing the only professions more detested than mine,
are tax officers, politicians and traffic wardens,
then so be it,
at least I tried.
And I did have a bloody good time
I like them both!
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