it makes sense; trees and their supporting trunks and branches. they lean and sway, reaching to the right or left, to the greener or more captivating, while still keeping rooted. this rubber-like quality is good because even with the possibility of owning 57 arms and one strong leg, there is not an autonomous powerhouse to put these appendages into complex motion. instead, there are other providing forces that work together to make things move and live and die and cycle. to be the powerhouse. if something is not strong enough or not meant to be, it will be decomposed of, somehow. for some reason. sometimes the snapping in half of trees will occur due to many reasons. maybe the outside of a tree contains the most beautiful geological attributes and is, ostensibly, the strongest tree you will ever see. though perhaps maybe the inner-workings are not as such and instead host termites and darkness. maybe a desired tree was planted in the wrong climate and geographical location. maybe the carousel of the tire swing provided too many rides, collapsing the tree before something else could get to it. these things happen for reasons. right now, all the trees in front of me are permanently slanted to the right because of the many washes slanting rain to the right has brought. and that's how it's supposed to be.

lately, all four lobes and cerebellum have not quite seen direct correlation with words, mouth & tongue, hands, eyes, feet. shuffling. 
"we're in this strange waiting period." we are & we are. 
i fidget and i move around just to be doing something. soon it will mean something [everything] and i will be moving foward again.

i've got a nasty cough again. it always happens during the wrong season.

no one should ever wait at the doorstep, even if you do open at a particular time. 8, 9, 10, whenever. allow a 15 minute  grace period at least. when you first arrive, you want to go through the expected routine, maybe with a coffee or body-decaying beverage in hand, not an already agitated customer on your tail. you direct, explain, calculate, reveal, and then your head is bitten off. comparisons, leaving you the lesser. <. >. everyone has something to complain about and everyone thinks they're the only one that does. ev.er.ry. day.

don't complain.

like i am.

i'm ready to get out of herreee. but now i don't have a car.

i hope i'm not a grouchy ass when i'm old.

i sit here, day in and day out, picking at my fingernails. i watch what the clouds are doing but when they just sit and never stir, i begin to. i hunch over to type, incessantly checking things i dont really care about but maybe for the time it takes to look at them. i chew on straws when i read because if im not performing some other mindless action when doing so, i cannot concentrate. its little things like this you begin to gather when you're stuck somewhere. stuck or alone and enclosed. today an older lady came in the bookstore and as she was opening the door, it caught the back of her upper heel, begging to sever her achilles' tendon. on most days i would have fled to the agnonizing customer, but today i kind of staggered over to her, akwardly offerring her a measley tissue. she seemed to be grateful, even as the tissue ripped and shread itself due to a few simple wipes. i brought her another one and she thoughtlessly said "here, ill trade you." she pushed the bloody tissue into my hand while keeping her eye on the immaculate one i was about to give her. on most days i would have quickly drawn back my outstretched hand, but today i didnt seem to care. she said she knew her blood type and that it was safe and for some reason, i honestly trusted her. i felt bad for not showing much interest in her minor accident, so i began a conceptual filmstrip of obsolete and functioning objects in the back room, reviewing each one to see if i had ever come across a band aid. no, we had none. though even if we did, it wouldnt have mattered.  this one was allergic to latex. i asked her what the special band aid in which she was viciously fishing for in her purse was made out of, thinking she would have a lot to say about this medical topic. instead, she looked at me while shrugging and gently placed the crumpled wrapper in the palm of my hand. only the brand was listed, so i disposed of it right alongside the unwanted tissue of absorbed blood, never knowing what her special band aid was really made out of.

after all, we do have a sign that says, "watch your step. the door closes quickly."