So said some wise wag once. And it’s true. Getting away from yourself can be tricky. It’s especially hard to get out of your rut if the darned thing runs deepest in the recesses of your thought processes. (Cogito ergo etc. etc.)
So should you go to the trouble of putting multiple miles between you and the places and things most familiar, why waste the opportunity? Why not kick open the doors of perception and immerse your mind in a new set of sensations? (Actually, physical danger would be one reason why not, but with a smidgen of common sense and a designated driver, you should be okay.)
Here’s the point. April is almost here. Spring is almost sprung. Big Wes’s whereabouts are as mysterious as ever (more so, maybe), and the calendar is full of blank spaces that beg, “Would not NOW be the time for some time off?”
One answer is “Yes,” and that’s the one we’re accepting. Henceforth, this April shall be a month given over (mostly) to rest, relaxation, and booze-soaked contemplations.
Most importantly, the thing about kicking back is that it doesn’t work if you’re
always on the phone, or always in front of the tube, or always on the internet, or always checking up on F-book.
So F all that! See you in two weeks beloved
P.S. Billy Flynn swears he saw Big Wes Turner standing in the shadows of the Indianapolis Greyhound Station. Who knows.
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