By Leonard Pigg
I decided against going out tonight in an attempt to tame the beast that beckons within me.
I have been in a mode lately where I am missing friends and loved ones I no longer interact with.
The past is a comfy chair that doesn’t fit with the decor of your room, but you still find somewhere to put it.
Sometimes I look at the current roster of people in my life and it feels like the cast of a surreal indie film.
There seems to be something missing from the equation, a gap within my soul.
I grow apart from my own reflection on nights like this.
Two parts manic and one-part panic.
The great depression is within our hearts.
Parts of my history no longer seems to exist until I see a sudden reminder.
We constantly revise and reboot ourselves in an attempt to make sense of the convoluted continuity our lives have become.
I play some Miles Davis, the only thing that seems to keep my mind orderly and soothes me.
Listening to his music evokes a feeling of cool, but there is always an undercurrent of sadness.
The girl of my dreams is an amalgam of random parts of my past, with a flair for the future.
I know tomorrow will be here, with or without me.
I had everything and then I woke up.
I miss people that no longer exist.
I miss shows that nobody else ever watched.
I like the red lighters.
I enjoy the flat soda.