"Better"

The shrug of the grog- the violence of the change. Never once have I woken up under the tundra of the now wishing I was anyone or anywhere else. Bootstrap yourself up. Do it again. I may fail one thousand visceral times in a single breath but I'll never stop breathing before my time. There is no option other than just that...

BETTER. AGAIN. Thrown against the wall when I need to. Battered and literally dragging against the force of the world. Singing at that neon TILT and cursing it's name. I'll see you again and again and again, in good health and in poor condition, in the blazing glory of excellence or whimpering in a pile.

I will see you again.

If I were drawn and quartered, spread thin as it were, I've got 6 quarts of appreciation that this relationship isn't just skin deep. I'd Rorschach myself into something you could interpret a little easier. Read these tea leaves, whydontcha. That's 192 homies and if I had the pleasure to know that many excellent people I'd have an army. I'd march this band of miscreants a thundering and pounding (in the chest) and paint something a little better than the world. Create each person as a canvas and pass out the paints. Get a little messy. Get a little better.

I love because I know no other way