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.