soft and warm.
blurry semi-undefined blobs of color dance in front of my eyes.

my mind only thinks of the present now. the past and future are gone.

just the warmth of her body touching mine, the smell of her hair. her hand clutching mine.

i can fell her body rise and fall as she breathes. and her heart keeping a steady rhythm.

she rolls over,
surprised i say, " i thought you were asleep."
"nope, just thinking how much i love you."

"today", that has to be one of the most relative terms that has been used ever, especially in my life. days just seem to blend together, yesterday becomes today today becomes tomorrow and i what i think is tomorrow becomes today.

"i miss today," i said.
"...but i dread it tomorrow"

because the today of tomorrow is always going to not be the today of yesterday. the day to day concept of today was described by the yuri indians by pointing up. and by society 'today' as the day you are currently in.
but wouldn't tomorrow be today? just like yesterday was?

one again it's raining. but this times it's different. i'm not liking it today. it's dark, damp, cold, and foreboding. iv got that over whelming sense that something is out of place, or it's very wrong. i cant tell. everything is blurred by my new windshield wipers. i liked the old ones better, even though they were broken they still worked. unlike these new ones. just because they're not broken, means they dont need to be fixed. but i still feel like some thing is wrong, and i cant put my finger on it. maybe it's me, maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the hunger in my stomach, maybe it's the thoughts i'm having, maybe the thought's I'm not. it's a very vaught feeling and i don't tend to get those very often. it's comparable to that feeling you get when you first wake up, your eyes are blurry, everything it bright, and it's hard to focuson anything. that's how it is now, except i'm noticing it less and less...

just sitting there waiting, nerviously, anxiously, dreading it's arivial, yet at the same time delighted to know that it'll all be over soon. i look over at geoff, his face is pale, expression blank, and his eyes turned inward, as if he was deep in thaught. i laughed, just to break the tention of the forboading silence that incounpased the room. "lemmie' hit that." i asked as geoff handed me his ciggerette. i took a long drag, untill i could feel the paper burning my fingers, and taste the tar dripping down my throught. i handed it back to him. he hit it again, and put it out. my eyes turn and gase out the window. it's dark and pouring. 6:13, the clock read. i sighed. another 47 minutes till the bus gets here i thaught. time crept by, all of us bairly talking, and never about anything important, smoking heavly, and slowing loosing touch with each other. i could feel it coming, 7:05 the clock said. i could hear it's screaching brakes floating around the bend. i stood up, and announced it's arival. "the big grey dog is here," i said with an obviously fake chuckel. we all grabbed a bag, i ended up with the lightest due to my size, and we clammered out into the pouring rain. the man in the dark suit took his ticket, and we threw his bags under the bus. everyone said there good byes except me, he turned, laughed and said to me, "what the fuck am i doing?" "being retarded," is the only answer i could think of. i smacked him in the back of the head, he gave my the steubenvillan hand shake and got on the bus. it drove away, as did we, but in an oppisite direction.

sitting in my car, the windows half down, the smoke slowly rising, dancing, being chased from my sight out the window. the annoying clutter of my broken windshield wipers as they clamor across my glossy window. the rain slowly dripping down and splattering across the window. constantly dripping, and sliding between other drips, and merging with other, only to be swept or smeared away by the totalitarian force of the wipers. every so often though, a drip of two make it between the wipers, where they are broken and continue on their journey down my window. and i think to my self as i take another drag on my cigarette, that's how i feel. like there's always some driving force trying to merge me into someone else, like they want me too, or they'll just obliterate me into void, and toss me onto the abyss of the puddle forming on the ground. how i fight to make it between the wipers, and to escape the length of they're grasp. but the light turn green, and i just drive away...