Busy Body

"The guy came here last night", she said. I looked at him to see if there was any reason to enable the doubt of events failing on me. I wake up each day listening to the silence of the streets and the echo that sends a broadcasting reception to the underground miners of gold opportunities, gazing at the successful and the relentless. Work is my water, i need to work to live as my senses are false to pain and fatigue. The joy of coming home after completing tasks is somewhat refreshing.
The day before i had met this tall brown eyed with significant lines on the face. He had a jaw staring aligned feature on his face which made him fierce. He spoke slowly and intense as i watched his mouth move and stare at his words to find meaning.

I learned on that day that my very ultra-self could become this man. The hard working lad i was incited me to aspire for the better good of it all. The man i saw had decent elegant shoes and his suits reminded me of the person i saw in the mirror.

I went through a loop that sunk me into an abyss switching me back and forth in time. Does becoming a man means you need to keep the consistency of life or diverge for the unknown?

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