Isn't it grand to be independently wealthy?

So guess what? I am in Arcata, Humboldt County, smoking the kind bud with some hippies. Can't say I love white boys with dreadlocks and sandals, but this shit is good. They also have a sad peacock in the backyard. It comes at dusk, to hang out in the tree and mourn lost love by singing its heart out.
The bird may be my soulmate. I came here to mourn lost love. And of course, to devise a plan to find new love or to rekindle the old love.
I took a walk through the redwood forest today and that made me feel insignificant. In a good way. I am just a speck of dirt on this earth.

I wanna head back tomorrow though, and paint the town red. Starting at Little Joy. At least I should be able to find somebody with whom I can fuck the pain away.