So, I’m sitting here doing deep work.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Perhaps deep work actually requires more than just sitting still for prolonged periods of time.
Is writing deep work?
And what does all of it matter without her?
Perhaps someday I will understand the meaning of all this and it will be like reading about my own life and face-palming my former self. Not unlikely.
Then, if experience trumps all else I should be the wiser for it.
I don’t feel that wise though.
Maybe whisky will help but probably not.
Girls are like fine wine on a summer’s eve.
If you drink too much the flavor gets lost.
And the bottom of the bottle appears.
But that doesn’t mean we should never drink; what a waste!