Monday, February 25, 2013

Jameson on the rocks.

One of her old favorites.

I never particularly cared for it at the time.

I still don't, really.

But I drink it anyway.

An expensive reminder of her breath against my neck.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Everyone has a story.

To assume that yours is more interesting simply because you have a college degree is arrogance of the highest order.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

You are free to believe whatever you like.

Everyone is.

Just remember that your conviction about an idea has absolutely no bearing on its factuality.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

I wish that the medication did not work as well as it does.

Then I would have an excuse to not take it.

Then I would have an excuse to feel like myself again.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

The sound of car tires peeling across wet roads.

It reminds me of my old apartment.

Of my time with her, there in that room.

It rained so much the day after I realized that I was never going to see her again.

It brought me turmoil.

It brought me peace.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

"Let me guess your age."

I turned to the man next to me.

His teeth were yellowed, but his smile was earnest.

My attention had returned to my beer during a break in our conversation just a few moments before.

The sudden query took me by surprise.

"All right," I said.

"Go ahead."

The man looked me over, taking in as many details as he could.

"Thirty," he estimated.

"An even thirty."

I shook my head.

"That's very flattering, but no...that's pretty high."

The man looked shocked.

"High? Well...you must have wisdom greater than your years, then."

I smiled gratefully and looked reflexively down at my drink, avoiding eye contact.

The blank stare of the deep black ale in front of me looked back.

Bashfulness does not suit me.

I laughed quietly at my lack of control.

"Thank you," I said, turning back to the man.

"But that is still quite high."

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Scratch scratch scratch.

Tap.

Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.

Tap tap tap...

Scratch scratch scratch scratch.

Tap.

I had forgotten how much I love the sound of my handwriting.