Drunk Boat

Drunk Boat illustration by Mary Brown

Drunk Boat illustration by Mary Brown

No, no, nononononono. I’m ok. Find. Fine.

Excuse me, but I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. I mean, come on, I was made for this. I’m a FREAKIN’ BOAT!

Shhhhh! Sorry, shhh. I’ll ‘shhhh’.

I’m not drunk – you’re drunk! Drunky drunk drunkdrunkdrunk. What? YOU don’t make sense! 

Look, I’m a boat. My job is to take on water. You’re just jealous you can’t take on as much as me.

It’s not an emergency! I take on water all the time. It doesn’t affect me. My dad once took on so much water they thought he was for sure a gonner. Nope! He was just a badass.

Can I tell you something? You’re pretty. No? Ok.

You wanna know something? Everyone likes me cause I’m the “party boat”.

But, honestly, as much as I love the company, I don’t like the extra weight, and someone always throws up on me.

It’s just, this is all I know how to do. Sorry, am I too close to your face? I’ve been told I’m a ‘close-talker’.

I hear they’re gonna start driving me with robots soon. GPS or some shit. No more people.

No more people?

Guess I better get used to these solo trips. Hey, can you pass me that beer?

What to Know

This article from the Wall Street Journal made my mind wander and inspired this post.

Mary Brown’s art makes me smile. She’s insanely talented and I love her sense of humor. I needed a picture for this post and she improvised this gem. Check her out!

The Night Draws Near

Porch sunset

It’s almost the end.

The safety of the day has begun to move towards its resting place.

The sun’s beams retract, allowing shadows to seep back in.

The last breath of color more saturated than before; the deepest orange and yellow the sun has to offer.

The air begins to cool as the street lights go on.

Artificial light now dominating the landscape.

A society too afraid of the dark to ever let it truly be black.

An energy starts to bounce through the air as the darkness infuses new life into the world.

Sounds from the streets are heard only through the opening and closing of the door.

Secure and comfortable, life existing amongst the safety of four walls.

Wild and vulnerable, new stories being written in the danger of the dark.

The blinds closed like the eye lids of the dreamer; shutting down until the light returns.

Repose – Hard Work

Shoes

The bones of my feet ache from the pressure of holding my body up all day.

The arch of each foot throbs as though they’ve been looking for a way to relieve the pressure.

The bones discomfort is contagious. The tiny muscles that wrap around each toe inflame to show their displeasure.

My shoes took their job of securing my feet too seriously. Now, they cling on for dear life; digging into the heels and hanging on tightly to the top of the foot. The stains covering their surface a peek into the work they’ve pushed through.

The trail of steps up to the front door seem endless. The whole drive home, I dreamt of the sweet relief of being upstairs, finally able to remove the bondage of these sneakers. The car ride was brutal on my idle feet, still trapped by the tight control of the canvas that could not leave until the act of being home gave it permission.

The bed a stiff pillow, like a cloud that has swallowed a thousand other clouds. Firm and comforting. To sit on the bed, to feel the first pull into its gravity, a welcome sensation.

The pull of the laces, unlocking their grasp. Grabbing the back block of the shoe and pulling it off each heel. Each foot throbbing with the newfound freedom. Each toe articulating up and down, cracking and stretching.

Laying down fully on the bed, aware of every ache and pain, glad for the relief that was soon to come. Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.