Evening. It was a day off. The second day off in a row. There’s no more luck than that in this life. Day offs are the only gifts I get, because on those days I can waste my time in my own foolish ways. I can write stupid shit. I can interact with the fellow writers and readers. I can listen all day to the music that I want to listen. I can do all that for which on other days, I do not get much time. This is the good life for me. As good as it can ever be. All good lives come at a cost, only some pay sooner than the others. I am paying now, and I do not know if I am late or early. It doesn’t matter.
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