My feet are blistered. As are my hands. A familiar ache, better handled by the younger body inhabited upon the ritualistic initiation. Though, to be fair to my current older self- the kid fell asleep in the bar the first St. Pat’s in a kilt.
Tag: life
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 3.10.19
It’s been a while. That’s just the way it goes. Sometimes. No need to fret about it.
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 2.17.19
The exquisite ideologies found ‘round the barroom. Everyone is a critic. A poet. A genius and star. Everyone’s an asshole, if they are to be seen by the right person. Likely been this way since humans first started getting together to drink poison. Another wildly interesting phenomenon in and of itself.
The Veracious Facade 