“I can’t dance, I can’t talk. The only thing about me is the way I walk.” Humankind is funny, ain’t it? I’m sitting (lying down) in a building with my backpack strap securely around my feet, mostly so I know it’s still there. In a city full of bums and beggars, you never know what might disappear. They see something they want, they don’t have, and they need to get.

I can’t grab life, I can’t have hope. I wonder why everyone sees such a need to dwell on what they don’t have, instead of what they do. Even I wish I could be above this, but I fall guilty to it, too. People grow so tired of something they’ve had. It’s used up, it’s worn, it’s no longer fun. It may even be a little sticky. So instead we see the new thing and want it, when we know very well it’ll suffer the same fate.

I can’t have it. And why can’t we be fine with that? We’re all little kids on the inside. We go home to a toybox full of toys after throwing a tantrum in Wal-Mart over Tickle Me Elmo. It ends up being fun for everyone around to watch, but damn it sucks to be the kid in that situation, doesn’t it? But as soon as we get our cookie, we forget all about whatever it was that we wanted.

I can’t believe it’s not butter. Why am I writing this? Perhaps it has some hidden meaning. Only kinda. Maybe I felt like writing something really emo. Nah. Possibly I thought people would find it interesting, but not really. I’m simply writing what’s coming to my head as I’m sitting directly outside a Starbucks. It’s -5° out and I can smell the sweet aroma of Grande Java Mocha Whatever. But why pay $7 for it when I can easily fix myself some at home? After all, what I had at home seemed just fine last week.

Maybe I can’t yet grasp the concept of mind over mouth.