the degenerate I call myself
By beamish
I love the dark places I've been. The bars, the concert halls, the back alleys and the brothels. I like the smoke and the smell of gin. The drunken stares and the tears of grown men. The fights and the blood that runs at the end of a knife. It's these places that living really begins to find its life. Not in the shopping halls of suburban malls or in churches of pure white hypocrisy. I belong with the real people where the swill flows and lies bigger than giants are told. Where the whiskey and the whores are both on the sketchy side. But where neither would be refused a good ride. This is my home. Far from the norm of life's expectations. In fact, it's where I come for a vacation from the sterile street and the condemnation of a degenerate I call me.
Comments on "the degenerate I call myself"
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On Sunday, March 6, 2016, Broken doll
(15) wrote:
Raw, yet familiar. Well said.
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On Friday, May 20, 2016, beamish
(137) wrote:
Thank you
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On Saturday, March 5, 2016, FadedBlues
(2172) wrote:
...been there, took the same ride. a lot of miles ago. nice...
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On Friday, May 20, 2016, beamish
(137) wrote:
A ride I would take over and over again. Thank you