This scotch has been here a while.
I feel like cold bread in the freezer.
Its not moldy, but its not exactly "good" for anything any more.
Like I'm overdue and without purpose.
I'm not sure if you're listening to this,
or if you're even here.
But if you can hear it...
without listening
that's better than nothing.
I wonder what you'll be tomorrow.
While you grow, I erode.
While I fade, you shine.
I gave you a name once.
One unlike my own.
We slew dragons and chased glittering vapor.
The stuff of dreams.
The stuff of legends.
And all I have to show for it
at this exact moment
an empty glass. Smelling strongly of liquor and recollection.
Growing timid as I grow old.
You can be anything you want to be
do anything you set your mind to
climb mountains
leap over tall buildings
eat bacon every friday.
If you believe?
If you pray?
If you hope?
If you dare.