I’m seated in my home office at 11 p.m, embedded in darkness as I swivel in my chair, a pen twirling in my fingers. I stare into the darkness of the room, safe for the moonlight peeking through the opened curtains, doing absolutely nothing yet everything. The smell of my half used blunt lays on the ashtray, beckoning on me to have another puff but I refrain. I guess I can say that this is my own way of relaxing whenever I feel tired. A way of clearing my head from all thoughts of anything cartel related, work related, and to an extent, a certain blue eyed princess I haven't laid eyes on for the past two weeks. I've been away on a business trip which will likely occur quite frequently in the coming months. I only got back less than two hours ago and came straight to my office, discarding my coat on the coat hanger at the door of the office.I have no idea why I came here but I walked in and found myself lighting a stick of backwoods and now I'm waiting. For what exactly? I'm not sure
Last Updated : 2025-01-30 Read more