it is no doubt that i sit and wonder if time will ever stand still. the life made to be nonsensical it will be alive. without a reason to be is a reason to be without. sometimes i sit and wonder, but i still wonder and sit. do words i speak really make sense. not really, but that is not the point. the point is that this is how i put thoughts to text. theres no reason for it to be, but still theres a reason or it to be.
as i sit and smoke my cigerette. i just write whatever comes to mind. sometimes it will make sense. other times it wont. its not about the ideas but the journey the ideas take you. am i random, yes. but i find it to be more interesting than organized thoughts. you may understand at first or you may not understand for a while. maybe the meanings will never visit you. in dreams or real life.
i met a snake today. im pretty sure it was a snake. it could have been a homeless man. maybe a woman, but theres not a whole lot of homeless women out there. not saying there isnt. its just alot more rare than homeless men. but whatever it was it said to me. "may i have some spare change?" and i thought to myself. when is change ever spare? is it asking more of hey do you have any change youre only going to throw away. like in a fountain because you made a wish for something that is asking too much. you just throw the coin in and hope it happens. i see that as proof that people will only give something if they think they'll get something in return. maybe homeless people should be thought of as fountains. maybe they would earn more. maybe they wouldnt. maybe i should wish to know and throw a coin into the fountain. i gave the man a penny and said. "here keep this for good luck. maybe you'll come across a fountain. then you can be the leader of your destiny.
i met a woman the other day. i looked at her shyly. i never had much luck with women. they hardly ever approached me. for once i wished a woman would approach me i thought to myself. i was tied of always being the one who had to make the move. just as i was thinking all this. the woman approached me. and she said the words i never thought any woman would say to me. she said. "do you know where the soap is?" and i said. "aisle 10." she walked away. and i knew in my heart she was the one. i never saw her again after that. and i spent my dying day wondering whatever happened to her. did she ever find the soap she was looking for? a part of me hoped so.
why do we get addicted to things? its not just a subtance most of the time. it can be an object