Maybe this last cigarette, in front of this humming compressor here at work, under the flood light from the factory roof, bugs attempting suicide in its brightness, the wet blanket heat clinging to my neck, the warning signal on my phone to alert me its about to go dead even though i just sent a message to my girlfriend riddled with paranoia, the sudden memory my brother just went to gaol for buying drugs from some redneck neo nazi on the southside, the realisation i spent my last paycheck gambling, trying desperately to scrape enough together to pay my rent, the hammering inside my chest that feels like miners digging for gold in my heart, the sound of my own breath and the calm i get from hearing that I'm still alive, the very fact that all this can be extinguished with a simple thought of something good, like a kiss, or shot of good scotch,...maybe this is my perfect world. It might be the lesser of several evils.