It's nice to be alone sometimes, to sit in the quietness of the night only to hear the sound of the wind outside--cold chilly wind--grateful for the warmth inside, typing pleasantly in front of the toasty heater, reminiscing days gone by.
My mind has so much to say when I am completely relaxed. Yet total relaxation for me only comes after everything is in place--at the end of a hard weeks work, sleeping children, a satisfied wife, a third cup of coffee, a man's movie, and a few shots of Polish black oak whiskey.
I can't believe that I've reached a point in my life that months will fly by and I'll be living but not being totally conscious of every second of it.
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