Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those who inspire it and the rousing of the wrong rabble doesn’t distract from that fact

You ask your pain to calm and it doesn’t. You stand there shuddering in the chill night, bargaining fate with a thick tongue, teeth like shards of ground glass.

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To refuse praise is to seek praise twice, but not in your own head, it doesn’t compute unless you laugh at yourself, look at straight angles askance and take solace in forever being accused of not to taking serious subjects seriously.

Keep the analgesic bottle full and the belly laughs loaded. Or some such shit like that.

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Even when what was lithe and lissome about you has gone stiff and sodden, but never wet-brained or oozy with treacly sentimentality, that someone’s asking the price of your honor doesn’t mandate that you calculate its future discounted present value.