Yes! Finally after two days of clouds, the sun is beginning to peek out slowly, like a man who’s been let out of the doghouse. I know, I know, weather is the lowest form of conversation, but in my life it’s worth mentioning everyday. Since my return to the West from the East Coast, I’ve realize that I miss the humidity. Most complain about how uncomfortable it is but I found it quite enjoyable. My skin was supple and moist. I barely needed any clothes–or lotion. Which is nice because ashiness is not a good look for me. What’s more, being in the heat and humidity gave me more incentive to drink lots of water.
Now that I’m back in Northern California, I’ve been going through some sort of post rendezvous seasonal depression. Which isn’t new for a melancholically manic person like myself. Nonetheless, a deep sense of somber restlessness has overcome me. I recall back in January my Kocoa and I came across a man lying face-down in the rain. We came across the same scenario yesterday afternoon whist on our walk. It’s downright depressing to see two grown men laying on a mattress a block away from where you sleep. And I live in a decent neighborhood.
I know these guys, they know me. We see each other and give the nod. I’m not proud of the fact that I’m acquainted with my neighborhood bums, but they’re people too. I can say with conviction that they’re not crackheads. They’re just your old school alcoholic-type bum. The fact remains, seeing them lying on a mattress wrapped in the blinding grey light of day, makes me really sad.