Who the hell can see forever?

How I wish I had a cigarette at times like this. My cup of coffee, records on and playing guitar while sitting on the floor. As lame and hipster, indie however anyone wants to see it. I just dig this setting and I feel so comfortable, so I'll stick with it. In reality I just wish to have the cigarette for all those Dylan documentaries and biographies I've read. Those pictures of him smoking, typing away and drinking coffee... also any other substance that may have been around. I just picture him with a piano, coffee (on the piano) ash tray next to it and an acoustic in the background amongst harmonicas. That harmonica holder around his neck that sits like face mask to hold in braces.

It's cold and bitter outside, the white makes my teeth and hands hurt. Every winter is the same no matter where, I just hate it and the decline in weather. It's even like everyone goes through a winter depression, not enough sun or something. Last year we were at the church playing music all the time, the place we hung out most the time. Taken such a drastic turn from then but yet, I feel we are all so much happier then we were then. Perhaps it's just because our perspectives have changed... for better or worse, I am not sure. Who really knows and who the hell can see forever?

I don't feel I've done anything wrong, even if I have... I am well now (or as well as I can be) and learned from it so it's all in the gray. For better or half-ass better, it's all the same. Or I'm just part of the apathetic, indifferent, sarcastic, ironic, and it's all in jest generation. Seems quite alright to me, I feel some sort of empathy in all of that though.