"and I figured in that very instant that it was not the depressing and unbearable weight of the world that was crushing down on me as in a film without sound and only the greys to rummage. not a part of a glamorous fashion-statement, a frown you wear like a scarf, cuts you wear like tribal tattoos.
that the almond-eye boy at the tramstation wasn't leaving to flee my possible embrace, that the cars weren't passing by to beautifully circumscribe the lack of anything to feel or to stay.
it was not that. I was merely and only tired from working all day. pissed because of customers with blanks stares that I had tried to welcome more than myself. I was weary because Donna had left three weeks ago and I wasn't certain when I would see her again. a shit-day with no creation ahead nor behind. I wasn't sad. this was not depression.
these were equal, trivial yet demanding emotions, thoughts, a part of this day as it had been all year before. I wasn't supposed to be glorified, glamorous even. in fact, this wouldn't last forever."