My cigarette breaks are sacred.
In them I reflect. I organize, and I plan.
You see, I do not think it is the need for nicotine that drives me, but the need to escape.
In the rush of the day and the multitudes of people, you hardly have the time to be on your own, let alone think ahead.
So I run to my cigarette and dive into my own thoughts.
I am pulled back to the surface by a comment on the weather by a familiar voice.
I turn and watch the depressed face of a colleague whose cigarette is another form of escape. Continue reading
Choirs and sunsets:
Reasons for life to flow.
But like every note,
and every colour,
each second seems to drain
existence behind some far horizon.
Oh how death stealthily scythes the youth,
In colored masks hides beneath darkened veils! Continue reading