Thanksgiving seeps into a day of light and dark, like a trajectory of blissful silence transitioning to watching the Macy’s Parade, then dancing around my bedroom to old-school hip-hop.  Internally feeling more adept than last year, the solitude and absence of friends didn’t snake rattle me,  it was more like a day of moving effortlessly between desires without contemplation or sorrow. As the year ends, the comparison of achievements and digressions seemed to evoke a visceral epiphany. I’ve always preferred less chaos and crowds to intimate gatherings, and being alone. Looking in the internal mirror, the reflection released a liberation of abasement, it is who I am, and if refusal of this characteristic triumphs, I will never feel self-affirmation.

Without that, life is an interior war.

I snapped this off a film, I cannot recall which one.