Random Writing

It was raspberry red, in contrast with the jet black night, a rusty cap resting on top of the bottle. Pop! It screams as I take the cap off. No fizzle was found in the rich red liquid when it touched my lips. Wow, its warm and bitter guess I’m no different than this drink. It’s funny how I even make jokes and how lame I delivered it to my only companion; my rusted warm drink. I thought about everything that happened and how it led me to where I am now. I take a sip once more, letting it burn my throat, letting it numb my core. Things never get easy, but then all I had to do was to forget, live for the night, this is what it’s for. I down some more and tasted it; its rusty smell and metallic taste, I then philosophized how it is so similar yet different to blood. Back when, I would get into fights and lick the liquid that came from my busted lip. Could I die from this drink? Most nights I hope so, when would I have the guts to do it then? I amuse myself too much with possibilities and what ifs that’s why I never get anywhere. Inevitably, stuck in this in-between space with nothing to reminisce and nothing to look forward to. A bitter laugh escapes my lips, maybe I am crazy. I take long sips, by now I am getting used to its bitter taste and how it is supposed to be sweet but ended up being bitter from warming up, from waiting. I don’t want to wait that long. Loneliness takes its toll, suddenly I felt nauseous. In and out, in and out I instructed myself, I had to get out of here. It’s funny how I feel lonely even when I’m within a sea of people, drowning in them, how I had to mask everything I felt, then again everything seems funny with toxic in your bloodstream. Gulp, gulp, gulp. What’s even more amusing is how I managed to fuck up my life in a short period of time. How I cherished the haziness, dream-like trance this poison gave me, otherwise where would I be? Back to being nothing, back to being replaced and forgotten. With one last sip the once full bottle has now been emptied, by then I had a reason to leave. The night was cold, I think I’m gonna get a windburn, while the shadows and laughter intertwined with silence as I went farther away. Suddenly my footsteps grew louder, thud, thud, thud. My heartbeat, raced. But then I could still remember, still felt the pain like a dull knife, never causing serious damage but forced upon the skin enough to leave a trace; scars I would never forget. I’d welcome the strangers again, the company of misery, the promise of facing everything if I don’t turn back. Suddenly, I smelt a seductive aroma, bitter and sweet. I remembered the cold, smooth surface of the bottle against its warm, dreamy contents, the rusty cap and its satisfying pop. It was something more appealing, than what I had to face, it was a way to forget. It was raspberry red, in contrast with the jet black night, let’s forget it cooed. Yes, let’s forget.