My goldarned glass isn't half full; it's overflowing. It always has been. I don't know much but it doesn't take much of a detective to look around and see just how lucky I am. I moan and groan here about loneliness and loss while I live a life that should make anyone happy.
Somehow fate keeps putting articles in front of me about working at unhappiness. I don't mean every now and then. I'm talking about now.
When I haven't been able to make sadness out of my lot I find someone else with problems and I assume theirs. When the misery sinks the relationship I seek the next morbid chapter.
I've wasted a whole bunch of life, waiting to start living. Every once in awhile I catch myself and I engage in real life. Pretty soon, though, I slip back to that comfortable bus stop where the next one never comes.
Here's my promise to me. I'm not gonna miss another minute. I'm using my love to fix things and I'm wallowing in the beauty all around me. I don't live by the Christian work ethic. I play rock'n'roll.