The Sorrow in That.

and what would happen?
if i disconnected all the cables,
that carry sentiment and empathy?
by choice,
putting the bottle away,
selling the typewriter,
and checking out
of my own mind?
letting
everything
go
nowhere?
watching Greys Anatomy, American Idol & the Jersey Shore
eating healthy,
organic,
and plastering
the friendly passive smile
to my face?
losing all value
worth
longevity
that i fought for?
buying a new car,
using women
like currency,
and never pushing farther out,
than comfort would allow?
becoming everything i loath,
allowing the venom to
postulate
in my veins.
i would become
the greatest
walking ball
of shiny
mass
that this world
had ever
shit out.
oh,
the sorrow in that.