The Beach

I am at the beach in my swim trunks smoking my cigar. I feel relieved to have my stubble. It has some white patches. By the time I stop working, if I can ever afford to, or if I don't die in the mean time, it'll be a full white. My skin at the neck is irritated from shaving every day. For this week of vacation I can pretend it won't come back, but come friday I can't have a vacation from my head... it'll remind me it's time to go back to hell shortly. Kids are walking by, they seem to be having fun. I wouldn't say I'm leading a life of quiet desperation, in my head the shackles are pretty vivid. If I close my eyes I feel them burning red hot on my wrists. This is a good cigar. Best thing to do right now is keep my eyes wide open and look into the sea. Yes.