--The beginning--‏

The sharp metallic hands on my white-faced wrist watch have just passed midnight.

I'm resting my back on a large striped cushion squinting into an endless black mass of rippling water with a real cigarette drooping out the left side of my mouth swirling a small glass of scotch in my hand..

There are no artificial flood lights illuminating my living quarters,

only a dim white beam of light coming directly down from a full moon, giving me just enough clarity to make out the tiny little carvings of people's names, fishes, diamonds and references to my incarceration that are scattered across a long wooden table..

It is a little bit cold.

I have a nice jacket that one of my freinds in Greece sent me
draped across the chair next to me but i'll be okay for now..

As soon as i spark this lighter up i'll probably forget about the cold..

....

It's taken me a while to put these words together.

I've been unsure of where to start..

In fact i'm STILL unsure of where to start..

Don't worry.

 

 It will come to me..

Give me a minute

Wisdom of Life

"The wise man will, above all, strive after freedom from pain and annoyance,
quiet and leisure, consequently a tranquil, modest life, with as few encounters
as may be; and so, after a little experience of his so-called fellowmen,
he will elect to live in retirement, or even, if he is a man of great intellect,
in solitude.

 For the more a man has in himself, the less he will want from other people-
the less, indeed, other people can be to him. This is why a high degree of intellect
tends to make a man unsocial. True, if  quality of intellect could be made up for by quantity,
it might be worth while to live even in the great world; but unfortunately,
a hundred fools together will not make one wise man."

 -Arthur Schopenhauer