What is this thing here, rushing past me...

Well I had an argument with a man that did does not exist about if my soul shared the same fate as him. He would not stand for my apathy however cause he said that I could never know how it would feel to be him. So while I could put off his problems as nothing, he could not. I had to agree with him and that was that. I fight for tomorrow and he fights for him self. He believes that if he stops living then all that is left is death and he fears it so greatly. I try to tell him that it can't be that bad for it seems that allot of people have gone though the same thing and I haven't heard any complaints. He simply keep saying how none of us are getting out of here alive, and my attitude was causing him to get angry it seemed. Anyone could tell this man was bothered and his feelings where only heightened by his growing fear of loneliness as he found no one of like mind. Try as I might I could not become passionate about such a thing however cause I cared little one way or the other. There are many topics that I can speak for hours on and many of them even get heated over, this simply had no hold upon my heart. I have spent the last few months being broken down by those I tried to befriend. On every turn I was bruised and broken in one way or another. I had ripped part of myself off and tossed it to the dogs in hopes to feed their souls for awhile. I had reached for beauty only to grasp dirt. With my head held underwater I still tried to beat those devils of sorrow. Now here was this man trying to fight with me about the here after. He could not see how I was not worried and I could not see how he had the time to worry about it. I thought about what made his life so wonderful that he thought the best use of his time was to simply worry about losing it. I wondered what trials and pains crafted his ideas. What would make him kill his brother for some bread, and kill him he did for this mans fear rested in the unknown, well that's not right I honestly don't know if he knew what comes after or not. My fears seem to rest with matters in this world not how I get to the next or if it even is there. People don't worry if their destination is there once they are on their plane and I have never been one to pack.

He and I wanted the same thing to have the other comfort us. We each had made choices that bothered us, but we could not tell the other what those choices where. The fear of having even a stranger know our personal sins was more then our mouths could let go. When ever the words would come the lips would shut them in and the tongue push them back down. So what could be done, we both just sat there giving endless words, saying nothing and never understanding each other. Why did we stay there for so long? maybe in hopes of becoming friends for it's a common belief that one can share more with friends and if this man could misshape himself into someone I knew them maybe I could have him tell me I was not wrong. I thought this foolishly for even if he could become a friend it would simply mean that the lies would flow easier between us two. I am not saying that a friendship is based on lies, but on comfort. In a friendship things aren't needed to be said and so we get to the point where we don't say things we feel we need to say cause it might cause us to lose that comfort. It is almost like once you fear you might lose something you have already lost it. Fear is such a funny little thing, and funny like getting kick in the goods.

Well so as I was saying there I was sitting in the rain with this man that never was there talking about if I was alone sitting there while he and my soul where off playing in my minds eye. We got to talking about how I had to have a soul for it had once been cut. He talked about how he was being cut as I was writing this, it was something symbolic that I don't think most people will understand, but maybe they don't need to. So he brought up the topics of girls which always comes up with strangers for some reason. It's like they never seem to have any luck so they want to compare score cards. I have come to the belief that no one is in the black in such areas. It's as mythical as unicorns and Eskimos. So i brought him comfort after a little bit. talking about women always starts off slow cause one doesn't want to find out that he is the only one watching TV with a bunch of guys every Friday night, but once it is understood that most people spend their evenings like that the stories come easily. It becomes fun, you tell your heart breaking stories for the first time as something other then heartbreaking. They become humorous and enjoyable. It almost makes one go out and get more, but you get your wits back before that happens. After the laughter the rain stopped and the bus came. He stopped thinking about if he was really there or not, but I still fought for tomorrow.