I lost my decomposition notebook yesterday.
Leaving a bar booth in a drunken haze
Feeling the fuzziness of three beers and a heavy daze
I separated myself from my most personal thoughts
Completely unaware of the soon-to-be moment of anxiety that will surface later.
I'd have to say, happy hour definitely had me happy as hell.
So happy where I allowed myself to not care of all the past dreams and wishes I had spent so much time purging.
A friend of mine brought up a great truth.
She told me that this can be treated as a sign.
A sign so simple: let it all go.
Let go of all the burdens, the wishful thoughts, and channel the newfound energy in a new book.
I only hope that notebook serves well for its new owner.
'Cause maybe, just maybe the notebook exceeded its rotten purpose and had to be gone.
So gone out of my life to prevent further decay.
As I walked with the summer sun, I found my peace in a lost item today.
08-2014
