The stomach yearns for what it hasn't been given in the past 16 hours.
My skin clenches itself to my ribs, tightening to each bone with every breath.
Insouciance comes naturally this time of the year.
I am tempted to test the limbic system.
To insult the self-proclaimed existentialist in all black so they burn me with the end of their overpriced cigarette.
Please make sure the lights are still on.
The air only encourages lackadaisical behavior as it is frigid and apathetic towards its inhabitants.
But I locked eyes with a rosy-faced woman, wrapped up in hysterics and corduroy (I think navy blue).
And as suddenly as life had hit her with its realities,
I realized the air and I had nothing in common.
Nothing at all.