They Reminded Me Of Gma & Gpa

the world is a wonderful place. it's mid-november and the sun is still warm.

the diversity within mankind must make mother nature proud. for when i got on the train today i sat across from a man and woman and before i could even sit down i heard him say "i shoulda worn a shirt and tie," she shot back "we're going to get drugs." my interest peaked and i asked them what kind of drugs (although i had a pretty good idea), when they told me heroin i told them i figured. a glimpse into the next twenty minutes, pre-transfer, would include her talking about how all her "blades" got taken away, how his ex-wife is dead (the big C), her ex-husband calls her for sex, and the quote "they shouldn't call it coke, they should just call it more!"

when i transferred at Babylon i made sure to avoid them, not out of discontent, but rather because i had some reading to do.

now across from me is an elderly lady and as i'm reading my text she says "excuse me dear can you open this", she reaches out and hands me a Poland Spring water bottle and adds "bad wrist." i open it with ease and give it back to her, she says thanks.

and then i'm prompted to write this. because happiness takes the same form in all types of individuals. can you recognize it?

The Shards They Cut

people are everywhere, and somehow within the population we find ourselves almost attributed to some. like lines in a web, significant of all the relationships, that's the word. they're like lines. some run parallel and they're next to you but you don't ever intersect. then there's the ones that do - intersect. who knows for how long, but they do. and it's very different, parallel and perpendicular. the ones that touch must eventually part, they're going towards opposite destinies. the ones that walk along will always be there, but never There.

who's to say which is better? it all comes out looking like shit anyway. whole pieces of your life headed the other way, and you're left looking down at your hands wondering how you'd be better off. i try and blank myself of the whereabouts of the pieces left. corpses from them all rot in the spaces of my mind.

sometimes i can't find relief. i'm looking for a place where reminders don't exist, much less seen fathomable. it's away from here, but it's around. mighty things have to be far. change is distance, and the further the better.