We’re made of humiliations. We’re nothing but humiliations. At every stage! At every level!
So thwarted. So beaten. Like dogs! Like curs!
Shouldn’t we be more than this? Should we be able to lift ourselves out of ourselves? Out of our pasts! Out of our pits!
How are we supposed to live, anyway? Must we always be drunk in charge of our lives? Or drunk and not in charge of our lives? Or hungover?
Isn’t everything just wrong? The entire universe? Hasn’t it all gone off course? Aren’t we on the wrong timeline? Of course we are.
Who would we have been, in our proper lives? Who would we have been, on the right timeline?
Always reeling from one catastrophe to another.
Work in Progress 