What’s in the glass doesn’t matter.

Just know I’m with wine. Red. Me, connected to and in love with Now. My Now and intersection and thought climate. My character in wined proximity compiles and collects, composes in its own election. I watch her. Sitting there. Staring back, she questions me– What now? Where are you going? I have no answers. Just sips and meditation, more wined evaluation and scape.

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