In Bits and Pieces, For Now.

Life monotonous. Same day, all days. Passing by. You try to stop. Do you really? No you don’t. You let it go, slipping through an open palm. Not a fist, though not because it might slip by faster. Because you couldn’t be bothered enough to close your fingers. You don’t care that much. Sitting there absent mindedly, watching. Watching the screen change colors, make noises. All sorts of colors, all sorts of noises. You can’t tell which is which, the color, the noise. Or what sense do they make, lone or together. Just some, supposedly. In a room full of people, waiting. Big ones running behind the small ones. Not you. Not waiting. Nothing to wait for. Everything moving on. You’re sitting beside railway tracks, purposelessly. Watching trains fled by. The engine, the tracks, the voices, the chatter. A busy world, busy people. Sitting there, an invisible, or probably not. An intentional invisible. People have better things to do, than you. You’re imponderable. A nondescript in their lives. Hurts? No. Your own life? Hazy. Tracks, voices, the trains and the sky changing color, for now. No vantage point. Happy, or at least content. For now.