Running on Recycled Air pelted by Rain

The sky was dark today, despite the slight raise of temperature. Water fell from all corners of this murky city. Being sensitive to my surroundings or perhaps just part of a universal punch line, my internal reflects the external. Why does this happen? Are we simply just looking for points of assimilation wherever we can see? Wherever we can feel? Today I felt it--
Today I realized I've been feeling it. And maybe tomorrow I will accept that I will continue to be feeling it.

Water; a staple to life, dimensionless, yet will strangle every empty corner beside boundary.
Today I tried to run from water. I wanted to run from life, find refuge in some make believe or a hope that time might run a little slower.

So, yes...it is too true. Today I ran from water but ended up running through it; the drops fell harder, faster, and stronger. Had I walked, my vision wouldn't have blurred form the rain, the drops would roll off carelessly and quite certainly with little trace left behind. Today running was facing them head on. Today the rain was stinging with a tone of truth and an afterthought of bitterness twinged with regret. Today running was staring at my feet to clear my vision because all I really wanted to see was stability. All I wanted to see were the marks I left in the mud. I wanted advancement by standing still and I wanted to stop time by running through it.

Today, running through life, was bounding into puddles of epiphany---What do you know? My feet got wet.

Today life soaked through my shoes, wrapped around my laces, and allowed me to think that I was sprinting out of it. It knew better but, then again, so did I. Now I'm left with wet shoes, statuettes of socks, cold feet, and wasted hours.

And I'll run again, because the thought of staring at my feet just gives me the opportunity to run into something