When Friday doesn’t feel like a regular Friday. Deadlines sway into the weekend. Reflections pour into a glass of thoughts, with whiskey sipped like medicine. Spontaneous notions of engagements and clashes of interest. A pull between yearning for company and craving solitude. Gazing at passersby with vague emptiness. It is well. Thank God it’s Friday!
Ballpoint Pen on sketch book, 21.0 x 29. 7, 2025, Stephen Ezike.