Sepia Saturday

Sunny days return when you leave the grayness of a repetitive weather cycle behind. I found bright stars above my head while pissing over iron ore deposits. The next morning, I took a sip out of the cold stream while i let the sun clear the inebriation from my mind. I returned home where the haste once needs while meandering around lost transients was restored to my feet. Trudging on the concrete of a city while smoking a cigarette builds character if you have the right footwear.

In the plastic glass (blasphemy) of an overpriced beer, I glimpsed the grayness of former days. I cringed at the sight of a LIRR schedule of the Babylon line. Once UB40 segued into Madonna, I split the scene after having facile dating advise shouted me. In order of occurrence: soliciting of 2 cigarettes; urinating inside the 33rd St. station; arrival at an old haunt; meeting a former lesbian/coke fiend; drinks; fellatio; more drinks; e t c

I'd be lying if I said I always enjoy the sunlight, but I cannot stand the static social settings some people linger in. It's akin to living day after day of commuting to work while the gray sky above pisses wet snow on you while trying to pedal your adult tricycle through slushy puddle after slushy puddle. I try to embrace the impermanence of the world, and the grayness of some people's lifestyle makes me nauseous.