The cheap blended scotch I drink somehow tastes smokier tonight. Perhaps it’s the moon, having covered both sides of full. Or that the left side of my neck is stiff, affecting the speed and ease of raising the glass, making for anticipation without chasing, attention.
It has been a day, maybe a few. I have been invigorated, the switch flipped to certain desires that by most standards would be considered healthy. I know what it is: everything can be as it is, which allows for either much or nothing to occur. And I am fine with that.