Chug

Well first off lets get this part out of the way: I drank a bottle of wine.
Tonight at work a front put aside its suit of armor and surprised me.
Fed me beyond expectations more food then I've had all week.
I shared this fact.
It seemed exaggerated. Turns out it was not.
Walking home with a bottle of wine to myself. Drinking under a bridge I'm familiar with.
Thinking of the river in my view. A metaphor provided.
Are the ripples aware of the other ripples?
When you bus tables you feel feeble. You feel wrong.
Like you've failed and are skimming the surface of your life.
This is fact.
Its not pleasant.
What is however quite pleasant is this. This writing.
I'd rather not explain or apologize and just give a smile through this sentence.
There is nothing wrong with my pursuit and the pace I've acquired.
Then again....I've had that bottle.
If I could sum up this week, I'd say that I've seen a lot of tradition and pattern.
I've tried to inch past my own, and perhaps I've judged others.
The latter is frowned upon but perhaps all it requires is an adjustment.
Regardless I don't feel regressive. I don't fear a relapse.
I just don't want to be a dickhead...