I’m on my second now. My first ended on the sandy shores of an ocean of despair.

Approaching the rocks, a woman stood idly by nursing the wounds of the offspring who recently emerged from obscurity. Think nothing of it and move on.

The shockwaves of existence rattle through your bones as the world stops to let you off. The frigid water engulfs you in a torrent of pain as all the misery comes flooding back to you in one fell swoop. Every word starts running through your head: anguish, purgatory, existential ambiguity.

The laws of nature prevent you from extricating yourself in full force. As you stumble back into your tawdry and ever-so-surreal existence, it becomes all the more apparent you’re not alone in more ways than one. Every step you take is another bullet rattling around in your memory as you make the sweet escape, never looking back on what might have been, not that you’d ever be able to in the first place.

This is where we stand for better or worse and right now maybe that’s the only thing we really need.