The expansion of the umbrella has protected us from sun and rain. Today, it is rain from which we flee. Big, black, and powerful. Wooden handle, large and serious. I grab the top of the J and grip firmly as the drops pelt from all around me. Dips in the sidewalk wet my feet as I move along hurriedly, sloppily. Toe dips into puddle traps as Nature notates her tally marks on the bardo chalkboard. These tears are not tattooed. Rubber stamp cement ruined, galoshes celebrate as kids take the puddle jumps as victories; Mother Nature hastily erases the tallies she has added to her own side. Because think of her what you may, be she is a fair and just judge. You may not think so because you are biased. But in this arena balance reigns, which appears to us like unjust chaos at times. Notate the ampersand on the upper right hand corner of Pinegrove documents. Robert Langdon needs a goddamn haircut. It does not display youth, it is just unbecoming. Bird perched on a tennis racket, spike the serve with Serena Williams' name on your lips. Incite those who inspire you. Taking away the bacon from your sandwich because I am greedy and need the salt. Umbrella like Rihanna and sharp hi-hats that pop when hit. The remix. Sprite Remix. 90-00 television and the headaches that ensued from over stimulation disguised as sedated habits. Sesame Street on the law. Re-enhancing the brand. Umbrella as shield when the wind comes right at you. Dinner remarkably punctual. Steak and mashed potatoes with extra gravy. I taste these sour raindrops on my tongue and they are underwhelming and worrisome. Gray day, pained by pavement / cement, painted. Smells like it's all going to be over soon. The wind roars by me as if a lion just passed away and had one last thing it needed the share from its jaw. The maw of Life remains open to anyone who wishes to step inside. Rich parallels in golden lava, tripping over ourselves. Surely life must be defined better than this. Little glimpse of hope in grand landscapes.