I’m afraid, he said as he put his ounce of scotch down. He could feel his fingertips slowly burning as he inhaled from the last Parliament living in an old pack that tasted like memories of the night before. I’m afraid to look back at the golden age of my life and realize that the glow was only strong because it shined in a world of nothingness. I grew up fast, always feeling nostalgia bleed through my veins of old memories that were created when I wasn’t even alive. Listening to the 1977 recording of Stevie Nicks preach Dreams in Seattle on repeat. I was born yesterday. Somewhere between the fall of the Berlin Wall and the creation of nip slips. I was born at the end of my life and decided to age young. Growing up, hearing muted echoes of racks of blow disappearing behind the wall that supported my pillow, half of my DNA was conceived by decades of self-destruction that I can’t solve the puzzle to. I’m afraid to carry that gene and look back at a beautiful life of sleepless nights that kept my body at a still seventy-two degrees while the world was igniting around me. I’m driven by passion and dreams that make me just another body in a sea of generation-why millennials. Fueled by the insecurities in my narcissism, I still feel indebted to my past of fuck ups and fear that I’m still letting them burn today. I was created to filter blows, but I’m afraid to stop feeling it all again like I did that night. Had it been me lined in chalk, the last chapter of this story would have just been a sad tale of what-happened-last-night-sydrome and I refuse to conclude it without making the world smile. The high I get from it all is inexplicable but I’m afraid that it won’t ever cross the line into satisfaction. And that’s what we all really want isn’t it, some form of elation?
You’re not afraid anymore, he responded as he stared down at the melted ice in his glass of Macallan. Find what you love and dig your nails into it until you feel yourself sink. Let the passion destroy your insides and ignite everything that doesn’t put them back together. Find what fuels that breath that saves you from drowning and let it burn through your lungs. Cry about, scream at, fight for that one thing that makes your future flash by your eyes. Find that one fucking thing that makes you feel like you can actually live forever, cling onto it until your fingers turn pale and let happiness kill you.