Rain drops fall against the double pained glass while the music plays.
The melding of soft droplets and hard guitar rifts leaves me entranced.
The heavy smoke of burning incense encapsulates me like a scented tomb.
Ever content in my place in the world.
I find myself filled to the brim with elation.
As if everything had just fallen into place.
Neat and orderly.
Exactly as it should be.
Such an odd feeling.
Foreign. Fleeting.
Like grains of sand slipping between the hardened callouses on my fingers.
I lean back into my chair in this bleak greyscale room.
Mindful of my feelings.
Inquisitive of their meaning.
Allowing myself this brief moment of vulnerable respite.
Waiting to crawl back into my hardened carapace at a moments notice.