Drunken Euphoria- 9

The drunken euphoria was a regret this time around. The ecstasy wiped one’s consciousness. Money grew on trees and there was enough beer to water the trees it grew on. Too bad the euphoric episode didn’t recreate Johnny Apple seed.

No punches, just thoughts (week 8 little behind)

The room is an acoustic Pandora box of sound. The squeaking of players feet echo off the wood constructs of the bleachers. Combined with the screams of who has who and the general yelling no you don’t have who, confusion runs rampant. Confusion seems to be the theme of the field house. As one sense of smell is taken back to a smell once recognized in an old boxing warehouse. But no punches will be thrown today, just shots.

Right or Left

The fork in the road could never be so perplexing. Although only faced with two choices the complexity of the decision could leave one second guessing for years to come. Yet there are not years to be had, not months, nor weeks, only hours, twenty four to be exact.
On the right, the decision carries the most bite and impact but does not carry the same flair or understanding of others as the left. The left however is cheesy and perhaps even predictable, but safe. Alas time keeps a ticking….

A Role not worth playing

There they sat content with themselves like they had put in the same time and effort into an activity. Such oblivious ignorant fools, they hadn’t won an award worth winning for years. But they were sure to babble on about their intellect and generous donations to charity. As if intellect of a child is something to boast, almost as appalling was their supposed donation, a mask hiding the lack of any remote success. &(*#@ them, they need another script.

Blah

Dreary weather makes for leery thoughts. The perpetual fall of water droplets succumbs one’s brain to hibernation for which there is no time. The brain is suddenly awakened to the sirens of urban sprawl, a reminder of the wasteland that waits for it if deemed unsuccessful. Let the sun break through and ease a thought or two.

Day of Reckoning

Getting off to the right foot is crucial for the long haul of the season. One competitor is faced with the challenge of a new partner, a choice made by him, and if deemed a failure a responsibility placed on his shoulders. Saturday is his day of reckoning and he feels that he is not the least bit prepared. He hopes for once that talent and not hard work will be the ultimate victor, otherwise he will have a lot of questions to answer.

Running out of time

So much to do, too little time to do it.
There he sat motionless. Not because he had nothing to do, just the list of tasks ahead kept compiling in his mind, making him feel anxious and incomplete. Perhaps if he started earlier, things may have gone smoother. But then again, maybe there just wasn’t enough time in the first place.