Blinded by the lights

Another broken dream followed by brisk nights and numb hands on the felt. Chips rising and falling like what some call a sleep pattern.

Starting with a roll of 600 and the ambition of a Spartan, I find myself in the casino fearless to make a change. The roll represented control of my management that I stole myself. This pride paid my restraints from all of the savings but neglected to translate my ambition into chips.

I went to play poker, and I left with a spiteful “thank you” to the dealer and a steady pace out of the busy carpeted floors and mad cowed hooligan’s waiting for the plotted set of cherries and sevens. I didn’t think a cigarette could taste so good out of disgust..

Maybe it was the in between tables, Spanish to Regular and back to Spain just to have a smoke and a sarcastic chuckle to suppress my anger.

Maybe it’s the minimum bets with the minimal effort. I guess that speaks for itself. Maybe I should count how many times I didn’t count cards…

Hate to drop degrees for my thoughts and I hope whoever reads this hears the chills running through my body. It couldn’t have happened a worse time.

But you keep your head up and trust your fate. If you don’t.. you’re just another node transferring funds through the busy carpet and bright lights.

well written and interesting, did you write this?

Agree, it is well writen. Sounds like a writer in the making maybe?