Aw Shit

Once, everything seemed simple: earn, buy, enjoy. And then - bam, and behind you is already a bag of obligations, bills, taxes, the eyes of a policeman that seem to read your thoughts. Money is slipping through my fingers, but my hands are still in gold. My head is buzzing from the speed, and my soul is empty from too much comfort for too long. It sounds like a confession from someone who's always at their peak - but isn't sure if they enjoy the view from up here. Between the lines, there's fatigue hiding behind bravado. He's not a saint, not perfect, just someone who's used to not falling, even when things are shaky. I learnt to be myself among both angels and those who are always "on a hundred." And maybe that's what honesty is - even if it smells of gasoline and whisky.