The trick is to keep breathing

These are our last nights on Earth. They have been flowing into the unknown since we were born. Either down in a hole, ecstatic, or miserable in a sand castle of artificial joy, they travel liquidly, carrying our bodies into the ground. I don't plan on delivering a chunk of meat to the mighty Mother Earth. But a map of fascinating experiences.
So with a devil's haircut and enough ink pollution on my body my mind travels along with the hours. Desperately wanting, it gazes at the stars and bursts out into the world. Have no worries. If your blood is good, no rain can wash it. No greedy flies will touch it. You can be torn apart and rebuilt a million times. Deconstruction only serves to know what you are made of. And the more you know, the better you are. Don't be stingy with your liquor. Be careful that it waters your soul but don't let it drown it. Let it strip you of your armor, but don't let it leave you pathetic on the sidewalks of life.
Decembers will be more gentle upon you, I promise. Springs will no longer catch you in your house of flies. You will no longer want to save the best nights because you will know, blissfully that others, better, will follow.
My vow of loyalty goes to the unorthodox. To those captivated by the slow dripping of rain. To stupid girls and boys that drink milk. I will push and crash forever. Paranoid, I will gravitate to the strange and when I'll grow old and my clothes will look better than me, I will be at peace with this world that seems to be a bit too small for me right now.
I will miss a lot of mouths shut between cherry lips. I will miss being asked a thousand times: "why do you love me?". But there is no other way. I do not bleed like everybody else. I have no words to say where it hurts although the sighing stopped millennia ago.
If you need to know these things, we can share them. We can shelter them in cups of coffee that we'll buy with our golden silence. You will drive me home, in the most beautiful parade of defeat. Each knowing we are loved but incapable of loving back, untouchable behind our seat belts. Both, red roses that might never see spring.
But that is a story for another time. Right now, right between our eyes, shades should rest. Not bullets. On mine at least. I am a terrible person and each day I get to wear sunglasses and hide it, is victory to me. To be offered all the pleasures of the world and pay for them only with time is a little privilege of mine that I will never let go of. Know only this:
Temptation waits. But it does not wait forever. Sometimes you might resist it, by mistake, by following false advice or just by being plain foolish. It will be followed by unimaginable regret. The trick is to keep breathing.