a pathetic life when your best companions when you're down are music and alcohol? i beg to differ. it's a realist sort of life. dont judge it till you try it. there is something cathartic about sloshing down litres and hard thumping rhythm.
but that is provided you have learnt the art of throwing yourself whole heartedly into something. and if you have, bang on the beats i say.

sometimes a person's death, or a medical conditions' only purpose is to make some people grateful for what they have. people claim sympathy, empathy and all worthy and appropriate emotions , but grief, i maintain, is very emotionally private, a sentiment you can only share with yourself.

it's also scary the way our thoughts run sometimes, and how fast and far they sprint, that we ourselves are left in the hue of the dust left behind, and only serves to make us even more myopic than we already are.
it's even scarier how intense these runs are, the drive and aggression beneath it all.

understanding is out of your league.
but judgement stands tall.
and perhaps, that is the scariest demon we battle.

sometimes, exorcism needs direct involvement from God himself.