the P.Pole

Drink deep; drink long. For every drop that flows forth from my mouth brings me closer to my final destination, my final resting place if you will. Who am I? Who are you? I’ve served so many previous owners that I’ve long forgotten my first form. Being broken down and reformed numerous times does that. As a result, I have no recollection – not even the slightest inkling – of lives I’ve led. When I looked upon my fellow comrades beside me in these chilled avenues, I see that the brand new recruits stand firm, strong, and oh so naïve. They brandish their paper stripes with pride and honour. It’s hard to imagine that I was like them once. I’ve doubtless led very interesting lives; reincarnation is a fascinating thing. I might have held the purest of the liquids at one point, or have contained the most pressing of fluids (that would have been a stressful life, I’m sure). I much prefer the flavourful existence I lead now, as I idle here awaiting your next drag of my sweet nectar. But I still think, “What’s the meaning of life?” It’s just an endless cycle. I must find a way to break out. I long to find nirvana; thus, I continue to live, for I know that every re-entrance into circulation brings me closer to my liberator, the one who will remove me from this endless loop you call life, the one who will throw me in the trash.