Isolation

Most people are terrified of it. I’m not. It’s peaceful. Well, not in the beginning, but if you can find the courage to face yourself then you’ll find a best friend in your demons. More and more the less and less I enjoy the company of people, favoring the company of my hound. She’s old, and grouchy now. She’s more stubborn than she’s ever been, but there’s no mask. She doesn’t need to appease. There’s no lack of accountability, if she fuck’s up, first it was probably deliberate, and second she owns up to it. Her love is perfect, not conditional. Yeah, she’s the thing. I could throw it all away, burn the books, toss the computers, and spill the inks. A star filled night sky, on a quiet night, a warm bed, and an old smelly hound. That’s it for me. More and more I understand why Twain kept his hounds close, and people at a distance.