Man walks into a bar. Man hurts his head. Bar remains unharmed.
Man walks into a bar. Man orders a drink. Man gets pissed. Man hurts his head. Bar remains unharmed.
Man walks into a bar. Man orders a drink. Man gets pissed. Man walks into a bar on the way home. Man doubly hurts his head. Both bars remain unharmed.
Same man. Same head. Different bar. Same consequences.
My head hurts.
My head’s been hurting for a while. The only cure seems to be a cause. This hurts my head. It’s a cycle of life and, therefore, unavoidable.
I wish I was a bar. A bar can’t do anything, but neither can I. We both seem to remain in stasis.
Bars don’t have heads.
Heads don’t have bars.
I am not a bar, but that’s where I keep going. The bars remain where they are as ever. It’s always me who seems to be doing legwork and getting my head hurt. It’s not fair.
I don’t like bars and I don’t want to be one: I wouldn’t like myself and that’s no way to be.
Hooray for headaches!!!
Boo-hiss for bars (kind of)!!!
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2 comments:
..., but if you were a bar, you wouldn't be able to drink, and you don't want that, do you?
... i did yeserday...
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