Out of the Game

I’ve been out of the game for too long, played my cards wrong and shined myself on. Stupid to think that I wanted what I wanted when what I wanted was gone.

Back soon maybe. Even if I want to stay hazy and remain in the shade being lazy, it’s no life for me. Nor is what I’ve got coming but I’m better when I feel, at least a bit, like I am still in the running.

It’s not been easy. I took a few pot shots at myself underneath the security blanket, avoiding the gunpowder, made myself listen as the shots seemed to get much louder. It’s no life for me, but it’s not been easy to remove myself from the haze and from the false security.

Got to live a little to be heading somewhere. But where I think I’m headed, I think I’m a little unprepared. I used to want to be something I’m not, but now that I should be thankful for what I’ve got, I have transformed, running after mirages again, I’m 27 and my hair is getting thin. My waistline is harder to reduce by breathing in – I’m either nervous, or I don’t care, there’s nothing in between.

Strapping a guitar on my shoulder and I confess, now that I’m a little older, it feels bolder. The first time, I knew I was a God among men. I was foolish but at least I didn’t question my plan. The second time I ran back to find some comfort there – good times but in the end we lost the attention of the crosshairs.

And third time lucky, third time struck me in the face and said ‘Hey man, you still feel out of place?’ And when my mind began to race I liked the feeling, it felt old and new, and now I put myself through, once again, the same old thing. It’s getting old, but I am older.

So you can sock it to me.

I can’t say I’ll hit it back but it won’t go through me.

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About dcduell

Failed musician. Trying to write for TV. Never sure quite where I'm headed. Serial un-funnyman. I used to do a lot of writing. Sometimes I still do. So I decided to put it on the internet. I'm on Facebook and Twitter. Pretty active on the former, not so much on the latter. Holler at me.
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