In all *my* worlds (of fiction), my Bartenders are the ones you can always trust on to pass along wisdom. Here’s a spontaneous sample from a piece I’m working on right now:

“Is your life really worth so little that you’re willing to give up so much of it in the haze of a regular job which brings you absolutely no sense of joy, appreciation, or satisfaction? How can you justify your existence if you’re not bringing anything of value to the world, or giving something back to the public? You’re not on this world just to suck up oxygen and waste air, you know.”

-Isaac, “Paying Your Blues” (c) Mike Aragona

sigh. sometimes my brain scares me…

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