A Riddle of Sorts



You wake in the morning already upset because your head isn’t right.  So, you shower and pour down a couple cups of Joe.  Soon, it’s noon and your body is beginning to come down from the height of the previous night.  You play it off like you’re in control but what calls to your body will have its way.

You feel around your pockets for some loose change and you count it up remembering the toll of your addiction.  Driving to the cheapest store, you crave the drink just a little more.  Your pores thickly grow and cry out for the one thing it’s settled on.  Your body shakes and you start to cringe yet the joy is preparing for the next binge.

Everyone knows you at the store because they see your face a lot more.  Grabbing the blue cans you smile thinking you’re quite the man.  With a self congratulatory praise of yourself and how hard you’ve worked, you get home and begin to drink and act like a big jerk.

Ah how the yeast is brewing and fermented inside, how the *popping* sound of the can is something you can’t hide.  The first drink is more of a gulp as it fills you up and stuffs your gullet.  Your face is read and you may laugh a lot but what family and friends wonder is, “Is he a happy or a mean drunk tonight?”

The evening ends with the last can of your pack crushed in your hands the only thing you wonder this night is, “where in the world can I get my next buzz?”

You smell of yeast much like a brute beast and you snore so loud you wake up your wife, yes oh yes what a happy life.  Until you wake up when the sun rises with that familiar headache.  You try to make like it’s not much what you drink.  Friends and family are dying all around you, but still you must give the devil his due.

Why will you not turn your life to the Lord, instead of hating yourself just a little more?

Star Gaze

Looking up at the thousands of stars in the Texas sky, it’s easy to get lost in it.  It’s easy to lose count in such a beautiful sky.  It’s easy to feel small and it’s easy to lose your light when looking upon something as bright.

How can I find my way in such a place and how can I be seen?  How can I be heard and how can I aspire to be who I am meant when competing for such a small star?

It is not vain glory that’s sought, it is seeking that which you are meant to be.  Hard pressed, shaken down and overflowing yet I will continue to go outside and look up at the stars.  But hopefully I won’t question the stars.