Thoughts on the train home.

Sometimes you become tired. Tired of the monotony. Bending over to tie your shoes might as well be a hike up a mountain. Bags under your eyes, hoping for one over your head, collecting bags within bags from grocery shopping. You forget about grocery shopping. And you try to make the best out of any situation you’re in, lest it be spilled milk. But as Big Daddy taught us: throw headlines over the puddle, considering the words that take up the pages. You try to be happy. Maybe making money for someone else is enough, and then again, maybe it affords you enough to not give a fuck. Maybe it is enough for you to find your troubles at the end of the bottle. Cover the bottle with paper. You have enough plastic bags at home.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s