Poetry of the Drunk (Open)

Drinking can often help with the creative process, it helps a person unwind and get those creative juices flowing, at least that's what Jason tells himself. The bar wasn't much, in fact it was kind of a dive but it was relatively clean, the drinks were cheap and most importantly it was quite. No loud thumping music, just an old mix of jazz music. Sometimes a band would play, but Jason didn't care much for that. He was on his third glass of whiskey and fifth attempt at writing this poem. He doesn't remember how long he's been at it, but judging by the cigarette butts in the ashtray it was a while. 

Poetry was Jason's go to way of getting things out of system, it works wonders for dealing with heartbreaks. However emotions like frustration and anger don't work so well with him, usually he ends up frustrated and angry. Poetry is a bitch that way. Jason couldn't write anything that didn't devolve into how much he disliked where he was in life at the same time how he wishes he could do more. That's always been a recurring theme in his life but at this point Jason was getting tiered of it.

After finishing up drink number three and failing attempt number five, Jason tore up the page from his little notepad and ordered another drink. Maybe this next drink would do the trick and he would finally write his epic poem. Or maybe he would just forget the poem and keep on drinking until he forgets all about it. Or something completely unexpected could happen, so far Jason's life has not been short on surprises.