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I have nothing to write about. It is almost midnight on a weekday night. I just fucked Olivia, but she told me not to shoot a wad inside her because she didn't want to shower. I came on her belly. There's something to be said for quality, but I'll take quantity any day. 

I've basked in my life here. It's a singular place with easy-going people who in their heart of hearts don't give a shit. Everyone I know wants to drink expensive wine, smoke good dope and poke young ass. Between reading a book and stroking a ball during those moments away from alcohol, drugs and pussy, life moves lazily from one experience to the next.

I like forgetful days. That means nothing traumatic happened. I'm not into the spectacular; I'm into the serene. I don't care for cocaine. I prefer Xanax. 

I have accomplished my task writing about nothing. I'm staring at the screen. Nothing more comes to mind. I've arrived at my destination. It was a short but pleasant journey. Catch you on the return trip.

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