Sitting down. Most of what we do. Except for the exceptional few. That's beside the point. Trinkets and ******* games. Nothing else Is but fuel, right, Harry? Right, Harry? Blessed be. Nothing is sacred.
Sitting down. Thinking about what I want to do before I bite the big one. I'd rather avoid most people than the thought of an abrupt decay.
I don't spend too much time there. I know when I've had enough.
Think I'll leave my house and then pass downtown on foot headed to the freeway.
Think I'll slow my stroll and then watch sunset plummeting from the overpass.