sadness_is_a_thick_soup raze and sometimes you just want to drink it like juice, and let it trickle down your chin onto your clothes, and inhale its essence, feel its heat on your face, like breath, like the sweet breath that leaves the vent of a clothes dryer, and there's comfort in that. and sometimes you let it sit a while, only to find it's grown as cold as the world around you, as cold as pleading eyes, as cold as leaving, as cold as being left, and all you want is to dump it and be done with it, but there are people starving in other parts of the world. people who would kill for that soup. so you drink it down and blink away tears and think about all you know, and all that defies being understood. 131027 what's it to you? who go blather from