Some Say You Ain't the Same

There's the person you were
and the person you are
and if you're worth anything
they're about the same.
Anything that matters at all will be there
when you come back.
That's freedom isn't it?
The ability to walk away, or the ability to move freely
between worlds as you choose?
"But you must think of the other people!"
"Aha! But what kinda life is that? Living for other people?"
I wonder, why, its so hard to see.
When you stop drinking so much,
smoking so much,
being mad for so long,
wanting to die for so much.
You grow up to want to live.
It's selfish to be self destructive.
It's a greater impact on the world,
if you can raise some free thinking babies
that can cause a stir
and give someone hot pants.
but this kinda shit doesn't make great writing.
It doesn't.
come on.
you want to hear about the hot nights
the rum sweats, sticky shirt to your back and chest
you want to hear about wanting to die and wanting to
destroy
you want to hear anarchy and destruction.
but that shit doesn't last.
It's not about becoming complacent
it's about being aware
of what needs to be done
on your own part.
and so what if it doesn't make for a great story?
i can always do like i did
and say,
"if you don't like it, then why'd you come here and read to the end?"
fucker.