no crib for a bed

heya


on my travels through this world i do get to see some things, look you see. these things, or if you like formatting tricks and techniques things, can be curious, striking, interesting or to some extent noteworthy. i am not sure that what i have seen in this instance falls into any of the above groupings of definitions, but we carry on anyway.

the things i see on my ways around the world that i consider to be of interest are those things which have, with wanton recklessness, been abandoned. no, actually, you, dear reader, seem to be the ones what consider them of interest, going on the reading figures for such incidents.

for those of you who have an interest, even if i am just addressing that to myself, here you go.

yes, indeed. in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode, there you are. a rather, or indeed quite, battered mattress, along with a bottle which is one that unmistakably housed super strength and astonishingly cheap cider, that has been emptied and i suspect the bottle "recycled" in use, to put not too fine a point on it, for the cider must flow once more after consumption. 

it is at times like these that i question the decision, the bending, the acceptance and the commitment i have apparently intrinsically made to a life of responsibility. whilst under no circumstance making light of those who have genuinely fallen through no want and certainly no wish of their own, there are those of our society who have quite deliberately dropped out of it. 

my own sin, my corruption, my addiction, is of course cigarettes. due to the draconian taxation here, the price i pay for this - other, of course, than the presumably quite painful eventual demise, going on what the warnings promise awaits me - is roughly just south of nine pounds (cash) a day. on my travels i have seen gentlemen of ill fitting and seldom washed wardrobes enter shops just after they have opened, immediately purchasing a massive bottle of super strength cider and a loaf of bread. this costs them south of three pounds cash, and has them set for the day. 

the above, now that i think of it, probably shows off the world weariness of the mattress and the nature of the bottle far better than what the Commodore 64 mode picture did. see, again, i am trapped by the walls of responsibility.

could i ever do it? without being pushed or falling due to reasons beyond my control, just give it all up? head off, saying "oh, f*** it, i am off to get sh!tfaced on cider every day". no, probably not. far too materialistic for my own good, and yes, i would miss the people in my life. i don't even particularly like cider to be honest, but in our heavy handed taxation ways i am amazed at how remarkably cheap the lethal strength variations in massive bottles are. it is almost as if some in government would encourage those who follow this path to reach the end of the road as quickly as possible.

but, you know, good luck to those that chose such, and may hope bring brighter days for those who did not.




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!