The 4th is nearly over for another year. Waifs of blue smoke linger down city streets with a few distant booms still heard. It rained for most of the day, washing out the Technicolor arsonist dreams of so many young boys. Their fathers marched on well into the night though. The dog sleeps in the recliner, tired after being scared most of the evening.
Managed to have a relatively enjoyable, familiar day with others. Cooked out. Played cards. Watched the rain. By dark wished, a little, for solitude. Finally got it.
Sibling and nephew went to parents house. Peaceful and a little bit sad. Solitude. Adrift in my own thoughts. Still not sure what to do with the job, and life. Having trouble trying to figure out what to do about tomorrow. Work. gym. family visit. blah. The pangs and wishes to be going to San Diego for the convention again this year at the end of July. So much seems so meaningless. Life has lost its flair. Repetitive. Bleating. Sort of like the traditions of the fourth. Being dramatic. Waiting for the smoke to clear.
Filed under: Narrative, Random , Fourth of July, holiday, Narrative
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