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Tonight occurred just like any other night of the twenty six years of my life.
I really am as deep as a puddle in the Mojave.
Honestly though, I’m not really writing for anyone in particular besides myself.
I’m not angry; not bitter in the least.
I just sat upon my porch, sipped my whiskey, and took a draw from my cigar.
Rinse. and. Repeat.
Although I did indeed have music in my ears.
Theeere we are…
Now just think… visualize, if you will… a cigar in your left hand, and a fine beverage in your right.
…and that’s it.
Obviously relaxation should follow, right?
A chilly but bearable late evening, lit by streetlights and sconces. Eventually becoming brighter with every lazy closing of eyes. Tired? yes.
Sometimes we all need nights such as these, do we not?
My mind begins to wander as it tends to do; everything from the occasional sobering thought of loneliness to the solemn in-between where thought seems as trivial as sitting on a porch, smoking a cigar and sipping whiskey.
Those are the best times for me.
I’m not really saddened during this moment, neither am I relatively happy.
I am merely just there.
What else should I be?
i oft wonder where has my life taken me, but not tonight.
I know exactly where I am.
I whistle to myself the little piano tune in my ear, content with these nonsense thoughts.
I have homework, cleaning, laundry, worlds to rebuild and destroy, Gods to praise and ancestors to acknowledge…
…but for right now I need little more than
my cigar and whiskey.
Thanks for reading.