Oil sleeks on a rained street; mechanical pee.

I wake up wanting to pee. I go to lay in bed hoping to sleep, but needing to pee. I pee once, nothing comes out. Twice, nothing comes out. The third time, I ignore it as long as I can — finally, I can’t anymore. Disgruntled I walk to the restroom (what a funny word, no one goes to rest but to take care of business, though sometimes I find myself sitting there for quite sometime with a good book — maybe this is where it gets its name) finally I pee! Miraculous. It must have been the pee that refused to evacuated the first 2 times.

I’m 26. But I have traits that concern me for when I’m older.

I’m older. I always am. I’m never younger.

This means I’m always wiser, never duller.

That’s a nice thought.