The irascible old man

A diseased collection of fears.
I could conquer them but I'm holding on to them.
Best to be prepared.
Better sane than sorry.
A rehearsed response to the surprise.

SURPRISE doesn't always trigger the most pleasant physiological reactions: the taste of anxiety; the stomach churn of the most grim possibilities; the stench of the verbal diarrhoea as the most inappropriate annotations spew out.

Restricted by worry and sinister anticipations.

You can't run anymore:
You're too old.
Propped up against the cane of the harsh reality.
You're regressing into a pathetic state where everyone else is to blame.
A condition in which you've fooled yourself.

But the wool isn't over my eyes.
You're the only person left playing this game of blind man's bluff.
Your eyes have been extracted.
As you ground them up and rolled them into every spliff, you convinced yourself you were invincible.
Perhaps your supplies are wearing thin now.
Does that mean you're getting your sight back?

Hi. This is what it's like to face consequences.