Pillow case full of candy.
Tonight I feel more hammer than nail. Some victories are stumbled upon. I’ll take what I can get. This has been a good day. Doesn’t matter what I’ve done. Or whatever I’ll never do. Today I loved my life and my friends. It was good to see my son. He’s never been less than beautiful. I chatted with my mom over the phone. She lent me her car for an entire week. I told her how my work week went. I tried to sound important. I’m 43 and ride a motorcycle and own both Batman and Spiderman socks. I just came off a two weeks straight work week. I came home to my little apartment and my outdoor cat. I finally did the dishes. I drank three shots. Watered the lawn. And I was home again. I had weed. It was in my closet in a pink plastic bottle. I put a tiny little tumble weed of pot into the rainbow freckled glass pipe. I struck fire to it with the black Bic lighter with the little spaceman etched into the silver head of it. I’ll never forget this lighter. I found it at the L.A. County fair. I took my son and his friend. I struggle to remember if it was me or Sky that saw it first. But I took it and put it into my pocket. Later, I wrote my name in black ink on a yellow post it note. Then I cut my name out and taped it to that black lighter. It’s held there for ten years now and still lights my smoke.