maybe just red.

repetition. the more i keep writing, the more i circle myself it would seem. that's what i get for being born a wolf. thoughts of wolves. ha. it's already edging late for the prosperous members of society, busy days that will not wait in the morning. i will be among them i suppose, making my way through the gas station line for the morning coffee, 37 cents change. back to the car. i will try and find a song that will shake the sleep from my thoughts and prepare me for the first encounter with actual society. my body already aches. a painful penchant for the start of the "work" week. church for thugs should do. the trumpets always take over my thoughts and transform them. tonight i am thinking about tomorrow, i know there is no room for the thoughts i would otherwise be having. this weekend was a toss up. the fall is getting under my skin, making me either want to be completely in love or alone. no time for half-heartedness in this season, it is too beautiful for lukewarm exchanges. i want it all or a newspaper, something to keep me company as the day walks past me. i am no mugger, so i see no reason to seize it. sometime soon the color is going to break though and cover everything, take this time of simplicity and lack of color as a warning. soon the film will explode with the entire palette of reds, greens, and blues. maybe just red.