There is a line of men with withering yet seasoned looks against the bar, crouched over the dregs of beer and lacing dripping down respective glasses.
    Some of them are wrinkling the corners of their eyes to signify a smile as they loudly laugh to be heard. Others are slowly staring into the space before them as though it will disintegrate just as their will has over the years.
Tonight I am one of them, crouched in the corner drinking nothing but water placating my own need for mournful self sabotage with false notions of failure. And tonight,  I know I will succeed at last in solidifying my own identity as a stranger everywhere and a friend to those who live on the brink of disaster. And tonight, I breathe in the sweet saltiness of
******* nothing, no one
nowhere.