that's the only real way to describe it.

that softness in your palm coming from memory of a touch.

it rained all day today.

i walked most everywhere today.

the first rain was the worst. cold and slanting, soaking through my pants.

the last rain was the best. fell straight down so that i didnt get wet at all, not really.

and in the back of my head are all these songs.

i went to sleep last night, with a song.

i worked, today, with a song.

i whistle bits and pieces of a song.

and im really enjoying this whole typing thing. the way the keys sound when you hit them, the way the rhythm goes when you find what you want to say.

i dont play any instruments, i cant dance, the only thing i can do is strike this keyboard. over and over and over again.

wearing the keys out, getting frustrated when one letter or another sticks, doesnt sound quite right.

ive always wanted a keyboard that, for every key, had a different sound. not like a bark, or nonsense sounds, but a note.

i've always wanted to hear what certain words sound like.

if love sounds any harsher than yellow.

how secretary sounds as opposed to limp.

if the vowels are any looser and cleaner than the others.

how a capital j differs from the lower case j.

its still raining outside.

softly.

softly.

words can be manipulated, you see.

they're just like people.

how you say them, how you stress them.

so many inflections, so many shades.

i didnt have a towel this morning. i dried myself off with the tshirt i wore last night.

i dont know why i wanted to share that with you all, but there it is.

i really had nothing to say when i came here tonight. i just wanted to type, type something that meant something to me, not a million names on a million different mailing lists for database purposes.

why is it easier for my hands to talk than my mouth?

what's so damn safe about this?