❝And it shoves me along to certain corners, to certain damp houses, to hospitals where the bones come out of windows, to certain cobblers' shops smelling on vinegar, to streets horrendous as cervices. There are birds the colour of sulphur, and horrible intestines hanging from the doors of the houses which I hate. There are forgotten sets of teeth in a coffee-pot, there are mirrors which should have wept with shame and horror. There are umbrellas all over the place, and poisons, and navels. I stride along with calm, with eyes, with shoes, with fury, with forgetfulness. I pass, I cross offices and store full of orthopaedic appliances, underpants, towels, and shirts which weep slow dirty tears.❞

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I got the feeling that if our lives were intertwined we might have made something unguided, witless, passionate, strong, but ultimately: saddening. We are so melancholy that for all we could be the best we could accomplish in our imperfect state is tears. Those salty morsels that drop so easily amidst our fallen brothers. That stains so quickly our papers. Bedsheets. Mouths. They trickle down our cheekbones, to caress our jawlines, only to fall haphazardly upon our collarbones in search of home. If we were 'we' it would have been all for naught. People like us never seem to find those peaceful streets unless they're cemeteries, or those loving families unless they're ghosts. No we're bound for a different train, to meet an indistinguishable end.

So. If I were to smile...would you smile back at me? It is just a thought, I know. Maybe though-I'm tired of these darkening clouds, and hail-storm afternoons. I imagine though, if we were to smile we would disappear. Despite these darkening clouds and hail-storm afternoons, I've found my home within these realms of nautical summer-breezes that threaten constantly to rain.

Hey. Could we meet again someday? You and I? Maybe then our lives could be forever intertwined because maybe we'll be different then. Yes. Thanks; for humoring me. Thanks for making these blurry minutes roll like sugar gumdrops from a bowl. Ah those salty morsels are forming. Don't cry too long. Don't cry too fast. Don't forget to remember me-this rotting piece of wood. Make sure your tears can find that home I never could.