THE SMART MAN WHO SMOKED CIGS - KNEW IT WAS BAD - AND DID IT ANYWAY.

I take another drag completely unaware of why or if I should.  Health is not my concern.  I’m looking for something else.  I’m looking for the answer around the bend.  That’s what I do.  I roll down the river.  I take what I can get.  I smoke em if I got em.  My eye is on the prize. My problem is… my prize is always right in front of me.  It was mine before I won.  It’s why I celebrate.  It’s why I take defeat so hard.  My friends all have something going on.  John is at an art show.  Other John is camping.  I don’t have a date or a tent.  So… I take a drag.  I’m a server.  Lasagna.  Gimme your 20%.  I do care though.  I care that you have a fantastic birthday.  I care that you slept well last night because if not, I would not be me.  I appreciate being here.  I appreciate this drag.  My friends have always kinda shrugged me off.  I dream the same way they watch UFC.  That’s what I do.  I passively plan my future expecting my bet pay off.  I actually don’t though. I’ve been this way for five years and enjoyed every minute.  That’s funny right?  Maybe to you, but I take it very seriously.  I need failure the same you need controversy.  I need to paint an abstract piece and sell it for 1 million fucking dollars.  Or… maybe I’ll give it away.  The problem with people is they’re either predictable or not.  No in between.  It’s why we expect change either way.  It’s ok.  I want change.  I’m so close to the bend.  And when I get there I will take a long drag in appreciation of what a failure I am.  Then I will move on.  I will move to another bend.  Another table selling a special to a birthday dad.  The halibet is fucking fantastic and I’m getting it for dinner tonight with no discount.  Bet you didn’t predict that.