It's a nasty habit, but I've been smoking again.

Pretty heavily honestly.

It started because I was bored, stupid I know, and it developed from there

I live alone and suffer from that I don't have enough energy to do anything productive but I want to feel productive

and sitting on the porch smoking counts as doing something, right?

Again, it's stupid and doesn't make much sense.

I keep saying I'll quit, but here I am at 6 a.m.

Sitting on my porch with a cigarette lit, not even five minutes after the alarm woke me.

I lived in a rural area on the border of a state park and Route 30.

There's a little apartment of the little country market here.

If it weren't for the intermittent traffic, it would be a quiet home.

Six a.m. was one of the few times I could sit on the porch and not hear the constant stream of trucks and semis,

hauling things across state. If I was lucky, I catch glimpses of some wildlife though.

Recoon, deer, once even a bear that made eye contact with me as it steadily resumed its

rummaged meal from the dumpster beneath the parking light.

And that more than made up for the noise, I think. I like to think that I always had a friend

or two nearby. Kind of pathetic really, but I felt to make any human friends in two years

of living here. Another thing is the spiders.

Tons of them make their home in the porches railings and the ceiling of the overhang above.

They freak me out a little, the sheer mass of them, but I like to think we have a truce of sort.

They don't try to crawl on me or take up real estate on my chair and respect my personal space.

They don't get smashed or bathed in a torrent of raid.

...