lethargic fray

It's like.

It's sort of like, sitting alone near the windows, lost in the noise and people-watching, a dull book at hand, and the smell of five hundred different varieties of coffee roasting threatening to bless you with a sneeze.. then hearing the lyrics you know as well as the photographs that go along with them. Being distracted, from momentary falterings, from more things to be dazed by.

It's kind of like, driving off the road and stopping on the side, the rain thud thud thudding away in rhythm of the windshield wipers, just to retrace the words to the song the local radio station fortuitously happened to play. Being steered away from the thoughts of the second, because the tune is too friendly, and the humming, too au fait a habit, to pass up.

All these things, I never meant to think, or speak out loud, or pen into words. But I do.. I do. Another day, I suppose. Another day, I'll catch it before the last few sips of frapp, the last few drops of bland precipitation.