High Thought18d
The sky reflects off the water of the lake. I see blue color coming toward me. The lake’s water flows in my direction. I hit my joint. High, I sit back in my purple foldable chair. A day awaits. I’ll do little but seek ways to transcend misery. Smoking is one way. Writing, at times, might be another. I used to have exercise, but I lost complete care in doing such any longer. I hit my joint again. A big hit this time. The day awaits. What will I do?
Comments