Watching the Cars Go By

Welcome once again dear reader, to the one and only Rachel Mays little world in this play, the marionette that performs forced pirouettes on this grand stage, my mind pulling the strings in a grand display, running and sprinting between thought and idea as yours truly tries to desperately pluck them before they reach the ether.

But enough stylistic prelude, dear reader, after all thats not what youre here for (that parts just for me :p,) rather I should start actually discussing the topic at hand: dear reader, when was the last time you watched cars go by? Or, alternatively, just spent a silent moment, thinking about how youre just a small part in the universe. Honestly, dear reader, thats a comforting thought. At least to me it is. I know some people are terrified of the fact they are such a minute part of the universe, but for me its something I embrace.

Think about it, truly: in being minute, you have true freedom. You exist in a space where nothing you do truly matters, so you can essentially do anything you want. You can sit and write a blog, you can call a friend, you can play a video game, you can listen to an album, and none of it truly matters. And thats beautiful, isnt it? The fact that you have the freedom to live without affecting whats around you, at least in a major way. If you look at it another way, isnt it almost freeing?

Bleh, even in my more casual side, my thoughts cant help but show themselves, huh? Anyways, back on topic. I was at work a couple days ago, on a 30 minute break, absolutely dying of boredom. Now, I dont know how many of my dear readers know this, but when Im not home, I dont actually have access to the internet. Its a decision I made a long time ago, and honestly never truly looked back. But see, dear reader, it can still kinda suck, especially as my brain is still getting used to the lack of dopamine.

For about 10 minutes, I spent sketching, and listening to music, but my eyes kept being drawn to the cars on the road. I ended up just walking to a cylindrical piece of concrete on the property of our work that I think I used to hold some kind of pole, and just, stood there, watching the cars, letting the wind blow my hair and my coat.