so i pull out the opened aging bottle of port in my closet
i uncork it
and i don't bother getting a glass
and the familiar thought swells up in me again
'its time to go'
this oh-so-familiar feeling-sorry-for-myself-side says
nothing ever goes as planned
smiles fade
laughter stops
lets get outta dodge.

and another-less-familiar-side says
it's okay to slow down
and curiosity can go a long way.

not to mention there is always music playing in the background.