Thus began a new chapter in my book of life. Armed with jazz, I move on towards new endeavours. Officially I am now alone. As if I was ever in the company of someone else's. It's hard to assume the best when the worst keep imposing itself upon me.
Independence, what do I make of it? I could run off now to who-knows-who and god-knows-where. At least I have some semblance of sanity knowing I can express my thoughts now, if this is what would pass as.
I try to be decent. I try to blend in, to actually flow along the tide now. Tomorrow I have a guest at home, and it's been years since the last. Feels like forever. It is forever. The past year or two, a blur. A blur of literal nothingness, no jest, of my own doing. Rebellion of a heart that will forever feel slighted. No voice of reason. No one to calm my wits to tell me all is right. Every single thing is a sham, and now I swim with the shammery and yada-yada. Let's taste the shit that shit will endure.
Father, discarded. What is a father? A parent? A mother? Sister? Vessels of illusion to blind us all from the reality, and that reality which in the end always prevails. What is the concept of love? Of adventure? Of joy? Distractions. To fill us all with hope when hope is all we've got.
Jazz is all I've got. Jazz is all there is.
Twenty to three, and it will be that in twelve or so, I will see where my true path takes me.