I’m not alive.
I remember walking down the wood paneled hallway.
I remember feeling like I was drunk.
I remember the ghosts crowding me.
We’re not present.
We’re not star artists.
I remember you walking toward me.
I remember feeling like I was happy.
I remember you laughing at my jokes.
This may be a success or it may be a failure.
Inspiration comes in drips and drabs.
Sometimes we’re hell-bent on a recovery, other times we just want to pass the test.