Ever been so indulged in a conversation, then opposite party excuses oneself, and when they return there is that pickup point? You know, similar to that awkward silence conversation discussed in pulp fiction. The person returns, you sip your drink and say "yeah." Smiling gently across to welcome their presence back, and awaiting the spark to another enlightening conversation.
You know, that one talking about what one is to do with their life. Or the sanctifying feeling of returning to the humbling 'b-more.' Yes, the see more conversation, where I can relieve more pain and grieve more about the dead lil' child that used to smile so honestly. Now, it's just a facade. A face painting on the dark mural of life.
I constantly get reminded on how I'm not in Kansas anymore, and that loving love is not enough to get me through in life. Hopeless romance has sank its diminutive head into the cores of doubt. "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away," that is until my 4th glass of wine is consumed and the troubles of remembering a name are the only queries of the hour. good evening
Enjoy the walk down Th3rd Avenue, a derivative to understanding thoughts in our head, translated through opinions, statements and feelings.
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