A Bitter Mans Reminder
I peer my weary head from the stables of my thoughts. Thinking of the mess that I have created within. As I think, I turn my sorrowed eyes toward my window. Looking through it, I see the sunrise gently cresting over the horizon. But all I can see is a smear of colors, oranges, blues, reds and earth tones. Muddley separated like oils to a puddle.
I squint my eyes to focus deeper into the present beauty that births itself to this morning. But like myself, my window is stained, unkempt with grim and grease. I feel myself become sightly disdained to my current status. So like any, whom become uncomfortable in themselves. I lean to the opposite side of my bed and pour myself a warm settled glass of bourbon.
A slosh of bourbon escapes from my glass as my hands quiver. I grunt, with no desire to clean my accident. I raise the glass to my lips and stare at the still ever existing hues of light. A small smile escapes me, but it is quickly taken by sadness.
Before I allow myself the satisfaction to drown my despair. I place two fingers into my bourbon, and with my bourbon soaked fingers; I leisurely try to clean my window. But my attempt to do so is futile, and ends with a heavy sigh. As the window remains covered in filth, there is but a small spot, from which I used my bourbon to clear the window. Which is wide enough for me to lean in and truly see the spectacle of the sunrise.
I look through this small area of transparency. As I look, I allow myself a sip of bourbon, instantly, I am hugged by the ecstasy of its wooden and bitter tone. It almost instantly masks my anguished soul. Though I am held in the warming of my drink. I can still feel my soul weep in the presence of my wish to cease it.
Looking to the sunrise through this ever so tiny hole, another smile slips upon my face. This time, I welcome it, allowing it to stay. Whether it be the bourbon or myself allowing such a thing, I feel a slight sense of freedom.
My gloom and filth riddled room, for just a moment, feels comforting. The smile, still upon my lips, I continue to stare at the rising sun. I look unto it with much elation as I watch the sky flutter with magic. Birds elegantly fly about, clouds appear with a soothing presence, the mountains, imposed so brilliantly to the horizon. They appear almost as if to be brushed by Monet.
As I look unto this magical moment, I begin to feel sedated. But not the sedation one feels from the wonders of bourbon, but from something else. Something I have long forgotten, I have become sedated in the pure pleasure of nature. I see its beauty and I have become grateful to its reminder.
The reminder of life, that though things may be rough, like that of natures will to create destruction in storm. There is beauty and lasting life to be found in the after math; and in the clearing of my window. I sit back, looking to the single clean spec of glass, comparing it to the rest.
And in this moment, I am also reminded, nothing is cleansed in one foul stroke.
Thank you for reading, when have you had a realization of life during a time of suffering?
Wanting more? Then this would be the perfect piece for you to own, A Man's Traveled Heart
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