monday moods. (a walk)

I walk like a little rat feeding on the leftovers of a tired city. I stop by, people pass, time passes. Bourgeois behavior or entertainment for the poor? the heavens open up as they have on every june morning, and I am not feeling clear in the head. Skip the cracks on the street, I came here to do nothing. And I think of all the boys that have come and left. I loved them all a little. Do we choose who we remember and forget? bitter-sweet snaps of previous company fill my mind like a crappy film sequence of past lovers. Are those who stay sweet memory or burden? do we really suffer? I guess we all fall in and out of love constantly, it’s only natural…go on. Now, simple thirst. I want to get some juice and let the sun to come over me. The people don’t mind me. I walk slowly taking minimal steps, one ankle after the other. The man smokes on the sidewalk. The rich kids hold hands and buy expensive refreshments.We don’t need meaning, we just need be. There’s the key to the grin stretching out as it pleases.