who needs the words

i stepped in a puddle today. a big deep puddle filled with murky brown shit. i typically would have avoided it, for fear of getting wet. but today i stomped in the puddle. and watched as the dirty water quickly slipped off my rubber boots. each bit of water slid down my leg back on to the wet pavement where it belonged. is it bad that i see tears in every drop of liquid i see. it looks like everything around me is crying, even the sky.

why are all these objects so sad? is it because they are waiting to wake up? wondering when the dream is going to be over.

days drag on. few words barely exchanged as the weeks pass on. they've gotten less frequent, less spontaneous, and definitely not expected anymore. is it because everything appears appropriate and normal? things arent always as they appear. later is never. i've learned. time and time again, things arent always as they appear. yet if one keeps setting them self up for a trail of disappointment and betrayal they're bound to fall and crumble someday.

dont take yourself for a know it all, because you dont know anything. nothing about me nothing about this nothing about anything. again, later is never. im a stranger.

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