No Time Like the Present

There isn't much to say when you haven't much to say.
Since I still smoke cigarettes, I thought I'd do a photo essay called:

"Smokers - A Dying Breed"

It would depict the (often) lonely smoker standing outside next to an ashtray, getting the only fresh air around while enjoying the guilt of inhaling narcotics for sale at any market, liquor store or bar in the country.

No Time Like the Present

What time is it?
I've been out of it most of my life.
What is "it" ?
All those things you learned which turned out to be untrue and all that time you spent learning that most everything is a waste of time.
It only takes 5 minutes to do most things.
What do you want to do for the next 5 minutes?
I have no clue.
Do you?