Beer in My Hometown

The local newspaper, I've struggled to see how it reflects the realities of Sonoma County. It's washed away in uncultured names and thoughts far away from my own. As I'm reading, I think of the people whose hands and bodies were once sitting at the very table I'm sitting on, talking of nothing and thinking of everything, much like me this evening.

         The beer I've picked, a double IPA carrying 8% something of alcohol, and it's a bit too sweet but that's fine, I didn't pay for the pint.

         My eyes darting through the words that I still can't understand, maybe my own lack of education, my own despair of knowledge, whatever higher education was supposed to teach me, I'm soul searching through the columns.

         There are clever thoughts, clever eyes on here, good enough to see that those who want to read this would continue reading this and those who don't will never have the time to pick this up. Maybe I should go look at the other newspapers, instead of hyper fixing on just one.

         Or maybe I shouldn't be drinking a beer in my hometown.