Passive

"I went to Bermuda this weekend. What did you do? Watched poker on TV?"
"NO!"
Silence. Thinking.
"I played it on the Internet."

It rained today. I was playing the guitar when it started raining. I played along to the pattering for a while and then imagined the rain pattering along to what I was playing.
It didn't. Mother Nature sets her own beat. Or has a dumbass sense of rhythm.

I left all the windows in the house open because I absolutely love the smell of fresh rain on parched earth. It smells new. Alive. Revived. Like a reunion of lovers.
It made me happy. In a sad way.

Dinkz used to love the fog back in Kodai. I never understood why. It depressed me somehow. If I could personify fog, it would be this hunch-backed, deceitful crook, blinding and distorting, enveloping all in a thick shroud. Dinkz always saw the beauty in things I never could. And I guess I could see why she loved fog.
It's beautiful. In an eerie way.

Life is too revealing. You see things about people you were better off not seeing. You're cinematic, razor sharp. You're everything I hoped you would never be. You scare me with every new, wickedly unexpected turn.

But I'm settled. In a violent way.