another day, another library

I tell myself that I've felt it, too - just five more dollars, and I gotta get out of here. Just get me on that train, send me on my way. I don't care what comes next.

Repetitive thoughts that'd usually never be voiced aloud, about past indiscretion and present recrimination. Talking to someone the same as yourself about whether or not it's reasonable to be so annoyed, with someone who might not be so different.

Also, asking about other people's grandchildren - and who is more or less removed from the prospect? Who is more or less likely to reproduce and procreate?

Of course, it's a luxury, to waste time and be bored, to sit around and listen. It's rich, coming from you, refraining to them. You don't carry cash; you've got nothing to give. But you've got all the time in the world.

Of course, just now, it becomes uncharacteristically warm. The heat rises under our collars.

You wish you'd come to points, sometimes. You wish it'd be just that inexplicably grim.

But it can't be. It won't be. They've got nothing going on that you don't see.

Your dreams are different animals. They die aborted in their own fitful sleep.

Dark streets. Slush snow. Thick coats. Dull pain.

How far are you from the rust of the train tracks? How long could you walk if you had to, right now?

Maybe it makes equivalency, if you envy them as they envy you. Not for your luxurious human comfort, but for your indolence, indecision.

You wish you cared about anything that much. You wish the edge were anywhere near that sharp.

Another day. Another public building. Another loud smoke break with topics unhushed.

You'd better do something, hadn't you? With all that time you've got. You know you'd die if you hadn't got a schedule.

You're so comfortable, here. You're so blinded and blunted. You're so woozy, dreamy, dizzy-stepped.

You really don't know how sad it is. You really don't know how desperate.

You've never felt it, anecdotally. You only know empirically that it's true.

But you've got to keep that empathy on you. You've got to get ready for something to give.