Mug

Beer doesn't taste the way it used to.

Is this what getting older feels like?

A dissatisfaction with the direction things are taking? Not in general but specific things that once brought bliss and temporary bursts of vivid joy. These things are still present but present a different face each time they are visited, be they willingly or unwillingly. Each time, there is less of something despite a persistent quantity and quality. In terms of appearance.

A facade.

Beer doesn't taste the same.

It's still beer. It's still cold.

Sometimes, it's more bitter. Other times, it's more and more like water, and other times it just tastes empty.

Same goes for other facets of life. What can be done but persist in the self and make more tangible the make believe that things will get better.

Or there's a sign that is obscured by how fast we're travelling. How fast we consume our drinks to get to the buzz, how fast we consume that which was made with care.

How quickly we devour and discard to move on to the next prey while the previous carcass bleeds and writhes asking, "Why?"

The indicator that one should sip from the mug as the sun sets and enjoy the breeze.

Not to rush into the night time but to waltz into it.

Or saunter if you think you lack the rhythm.