When the night turns to day, there’s very little left behind to go through the day. With all you have, every little piece, you seem to be content. Only seem to be. But you know best what you have. So what do you have? And is that what is really giving you the joy you proclaim of having? Excuse the invasion. But I need to know. Okay. Maybe I don’t NEED to know. Maybe I already know. Does that leave you baffled? Am I not to know? The little darkness in that corner of your restricted mind, where only dark shadows dance and come back to haunt you the moment you’re left alone. And you light that cigarette only to confuse yourself with the smoke rings and those shadows. But they only laugh louder. They only mock your foolishness and your insecurities. You say you are fine, you have been blessed with this life you live and all its glory. I say that’s what you think. Do you really feel that way? And please don’t lie, not to yourself. I know not about virtues and vices, but I do know that lying to yourself won’t help you. Not that you need help. But you’ve got to know for yourself. I can’t do this for you. I’d love to, but I can’t. And I’m not sorry. Are you?