Short

You have to go, to go. Push on, pushing on. I’m smoking a cigar inside. First time in years. I accidentally put it out in my son’s cereal bowl dish with my spit. I didn’t want that. I had fun lighting it again with a wooden match made of what the fuck fire.

I’m coming to terms with my life. I have terms and Life doesn’t. So we’re both sitting here with this cigar watching smoke. I once read that a blind man wouldn’t smoke because he couldn’t see the smoke rise around him. I get it. I wouldn’t smoke either if I couldn’t see the difference in each rising movement. Those columns are different each time so that’s where we’d miss the everything about what we wanted to be.

Anyway,  I type so letters become words around thought.

Cheers,

Matt

Odd Walking Thoughts – Cons

Come boisterous men! Come shrieking vixens! Insert into the glass castle with the clearest of walls. The show awaits. Let opinions rage wildly. Of course, you are the only one. Become yourselves and let the audience bathe in your greatest volume, for the glass shimmers for a reason to shatter. 

copyright 2016 -M. Taggart