Escape From Memphis–Chapter Twelve–I have found me a home

“The days drift by

They don’t have names

None of the streets here look the same

And there’re so many quiet places

And smilin’ eyes match the smilin’ faces”

–Jim Buffett

So here I am.

“What now, Cowboy?”

“Dunno.”

I am ‘managing’ my disease.

I suppose this is a ‘plus.’

A ‘good’ thing.

Okay, there is that.

But, other than that, what are you going to do with the rest of your life?

Large questions…

“Write, I guess….”

“Good luck with that. You cannot ‘write,’ you suck at writing. Try something else. Ditch Digging comes immediately to mind.”

“I used to build barb-wire fence…”

“Yeah, try that.”

“Too old.”

“You are full of excuses, ain’t ya?”

I have settled into some kind of ‘new normal.’

Cast out those delirium tremens daemons.

At peace.

(For now)

Yet now, what next?

I am living Large.

I love my life.

I’d like to keep it.

‘Keep on keeping on,’ as they say.

(They say a lot)

I do tend to ramble.

‘Tis my wont.

I am determined to finish this series.

Even if it hair-lips the Pope.

To be continued.

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