I'm in a strange mood. It's raining, the harvest's dust and the ash from the many brush fires is all falling from the air, the buildings and being washed into the gutter. When I was in California I always used to weep a little the first time it rained at the end of summer. It felt like a great cleansing, I also felt that I could have just as easily been washed down the gutter with the rest of the dry filth. I feel a bit like that now. The shutters are all still open and I see a couple standing in the lighted window above me, they are watching the rain as well.
Newness aside, there are times when a man just wants a hug from someone who knows him, really knows him.
The handful of people who do are all out of reach.
After a night like this I always wake up cleansed too, just like the streets I have alwas been a part of.
Newness aside, there are times when a man just wants a hug from someone who knows him, really knows him.
The handful of people who do are all out of reach.
After a night like this I always wake up cleansed too, just like the streets I have alwas been a part of.
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The people that really know you know about your personal hygiene and probably wouldn't hug you anyway.
I wanted to write something nice to round this off but my laughter would not allow it.