We Always Get There

Summary

The text reflects on the journey of life, acknowledging the inevitability of aging and the consequences of one's choices.

Abstract

The narrative is a poignant reflection on the passage of time, where the author contemplates the speed at which life unfolds, often without proper reflection. The author recalls youthful adventures, regrets, and the relentless march towards the present, symbolized by the phrase "We always get there." Despite the bravado of youth, the reality of life's one-way journey is underscored by moments of introspection, the search for meaning, and the acceptance of an unchangeable past. The text is a meditation on the inevitability of life's progression, the fulfillment of promises, and the resignation to the destinations we all inevitably reach.

Opinions

The author feels that life's journey is predetermined and inevitable, as suggested by the recurring line "We always get there."
There is a sense of regret for not having appreciated the moments of youth more fully, and for not having altered the course of life when there was still time.
The author acknowledges the fleeting nature of youth and the permanence of the choices made during that time.
The text conveys a sense of resignation to the consequences of one's actions, including the broken promises and the impact of one's behavior on others.
There is an acknowledgment of the author's own flaws, including a propensity for trouble and self-destructive behavior.
The author

A broken man in a broken poem

Author on a whiskey-free day, maybe just one.

I’m heading way beyond tomorrow, long past yesterday, leaving my reflection in the windows of forgotten memories. I’ve been young, been old, boarded the youth train without proper contemplation, and only the images in the window told me how fast has been the journey. Had I known, I would have got off, stayed some place, recalled hometown thoughts, schoolyard dreams, spun my wheels, told a few more lies, broke a few more heads, and visited a lot more beds before I discovered being older.

I didn’t pay attention to the writing on the ticket: We always get there.

When young, I pledged everything. Delivering sometimes, most times not, leaving before the promissory note came due. But come due it does.

Trouble was companion to my ups and stayed for the downs. I got drunk in bars, raced some cars, flew my youth so fast my hair burned, only to find it was always going to happen by the sea. Waves tumbling their message as they rendezvous with the shore: We always get there.

Set out my sails on a sunny day, searching for what? I never knew. Something burned. Played some games of kiss and tell, kept those girls hanging on the line. I drank whiskey; they drank wine. Misty-eyed romance on a misty day and I was lost before being found. Walked straight into the tender trap. Ten thousand miles, no going back.

Night draws in, fading light, whiskey sunsets won’t make it right. Poems broken, evening shadows draped on dry stone walls. It’s a one-way ticket, no going back. I’m heading beyond tomorrow, way past yesterday, lost and found, trying to get back to that place again.

Not a single thing I can do.

I’ll not drink with angels when the journey ends, having fought and drank, beaten heads, asked forgiveness, and tried to mend. Tempers flare, don’t tell me to stop, or take away the bottle. Men like me, we burn in hell.

Trust me on this, we always get there.