The first of the month begins with the last of the bottle. It makes for a weak drink, though not unappreciated.
I'm dwelling on St. Augustine's words (somewhere in The City of God), that God gives people what they really want. What a terribly dangerous way to do things.
It is actually quite hard to stop and consider what I really want. On a gut-level, it seems that I am just trying to survive to the next day. The train seems to be moving too fast to survive getting off any time soon.
What does the drink from Kentucky have to do with all this? Well, if you're going to be trapped somewhere, its nice to have a companion.
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