When I think about all the 'things' that I am, I am grateful that I am really none of them. So, here I am the Nightwatchman with my watchful eye, watching the emptiness. Flashlight in hand I wander down dark hallways through spooky shadows and corridors keeping the perimeter clear. Nights move-bye quick. My ritual begins. Outside I ponder at stars remembering when I could locate Drako and Booties. I think of escaping through the woods, making it to the cost and then sailing to Costa Rica. There I would ingest Ayahausca and head South towards the temples. Meanwhile, I am back at my desk. I sip hot chocolate and then type letters out on a tiny handheld screen. Some of these words are finished for me, capitalization is a dream all my "i's" are now "I's" my punctuation more presentable to... who? Another round and few sarcastic remarks exchanged only those on graveyard will appreciate. But I am not this, either. Back inside I return to my desk, pulling out the larger machine I will compose a letter.
Location:James Terrace,Woburn,United States