I sit alone at the bar and want of no company. I am neither lonesome nor mournful. Content. They say that desire leads to dissatisfaction. I have found that the lack of each is equally true.

We, those who are our own company (and better company than most) Suffer our own, this our style: TO WANT NOTHING. AND OF NOTHING, WE WANT. And yet, this too is a poisonous rhetoric as we decay.

There is no satisfaction here.

Only there.

And only through a single gate.