Losing Track

Finding comfort in losing track of time is an ability that both atrophies and grows more precious with age. I lose track in coffee shops, sitting by the window observing the world outside. If the company is right, the conversation light, the music subdued, and the coffee smooth, nirvana can creep up on you, unnoticed.

I'd also like to add that two grown-ass black people are throwing snowballs at my train from across the tracks. What the hell, guys.