I lit my cigarette and heard the crackling of tobacco and burning paper as I dragged, dragged, dragged. I thought of life in the hawain pacific, or in alaska. I thought of life on a boat or in the altitudes of a mountain top. I thought of life. Here, now. Everthing is dimly lit out here, at this hour. Shadows are clearly outlined, the world is dark, cut-out shapes. The bicycle resting on the fence, the stop sign, the pine trees that roof me. Little humble abodes, no bigger than summer cottages are houses! Lived in, worn out to the most comfortable and safe beauties. The grass is wet, I feel it below my feet. The breeze only brushes through my damp toes. There are stars here. The constellations do not hide, they present themselves loudly. I see the moon, behind a dark oak tree with its nude branches. The moon is full aside from a missing piece taken from its upper right side. It was me. I bit the moon. I was starving for it, I ripped into it and was satisfied with a single taste. Everything is silent beside my exhalation of smoke. Pffhooo. Now I hear a train. I heard the train rumbling on its tracks. I sense the vibrations, a soothing serenade. I look for it in the distance. The horizon is purple-pink, despite the time of night. It is still alive! As am I. Today is not over. It is never done. This cannot be measured in time. I close my eyes, I am light headed. Everything is so intensely black. I flick the cigarette dead and wonder, how this can all be mine for now, forever.