Hangin by the tracks

The squeaking and squealing of the trains rolling through, you get used to it,  at all hours of the day and night. Their takes have always represented a path to me,  one of dreams and mystery,  of the far off places they can take you. Curiosity makes me wonder where they lead. As I'm building this metaphor I get a text from a friend "The doc is giving me oxy's next. Don't wanna get on that train... Don't want surgery either though."  Oh, I know the train of which he speaks, it's all too familiar to me.  Once you get on the exit is guaranteed to be  excruciating.  I don't preach to the dude, he don't want to hear it. I do make him aware of the simple fact that going to something harder only means it's more difficult to get off, and you're one step closer to the ceiling of what they can give you.  I honestly think he's figuring he'll die before he gets there, he's got other health problems and the men in his family don't live that long. It's the reality he's created for his self,  who am I to tell him it's wrong, when it simply just wasn't right for me?  I've never had a friend before who I knew, without a doubt, would be my friend no matter what I did, until I met this dude. He's seen me act like a crazy asshole,  and he just rolls with it. When I took a few college courses he worked shifts for me so I could get there.  And when it was time for me to kick the pills he never once tried to prevent me from doing anything. They say misery loves company, but any way I look at it, the guy is happy. I'll be there for him whatever he does, unconditionally. 

I kinda lost where I was going, but not really.  Like those tracks I don't know where my path in life is going to take me, I just have to go with it. All kinds of interesting opportunities and prospects open up I have to be willing to be flexible though, and to be uncomfortable, always uncomfortable. It's a Saturday and I'm actually off, let's see what kind of trouble I can get into