Path of Least Resistance

How do you start a story you never even wanted to write? How do you write when your fingers won’t move? How do you listen to a song you kinda… well, you like it but not enough? How do you listen to songs that make you cry, they’re so damned poignant? Or maybe they aren’t poignant at all, they are shallow as hell and you cry anyway, because you’ve become a sentimental old fool. Why? Why laugh? Why cry? Why try? And… there… is… no… time! I need more time. I… I haven’t got it yet, I need more time. I’m still in the waiting room, I haven’t even started yet, and I don’t understand what the hell is going on. And I’ve only got this one life. When it’s done, it’s done. Unless I decide to believe in god, Buddha, or whatever. And I’ll tell you one thing, ain’t no way I’m gonna do that. Not taking the easy way out, no siree bob. So I’ll ring the bells, and beat the drum, for all the good it’ll do me.
drum-2187_640
Beat the drum… I have the funny feeling I’ve got to beat it a hell of a lot louder, if anyone’s to hear it. But I’m tired, I’ve been beating it for quite some time now… guess I’m just too lazy. It’s easy being lazy. As a young man, I told myself I’d never take it easy, I’d never go slow, I’d never compromise, I’d never ever bow down. Well, I can almost laugh about that now, but only almost. At least I never did bow down, but then I never had to decide between bowing down and dying. I guess I should be happy I’ve never had to prove what I’m made of. Typical human animal: path of least resistance, here I come. So, why complain? Because I’m a typical human animal: I love to bitch.

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