I was walking home today from that place. You know where I go to when I miss you. It doesn't make me feel better though. It usually makes me feel worse. but I still go there. Why do people do this to themselves? Do things that they know are bad for them.

Anyway, yes, I was walking home today. Well, technically the hostel, not really home. But it's as home as home can be in this country. And it just stopped raining. I thought at first that the world was blurred up because of the tears. But it wasn't. It was really all nicely fogged up. The pavement and air was warm. Steam was rising from the wet tar. Leaves were transpiring. (Good grief, bio...). You don't see the fragments of droplets rise of course. You just see the world blanketed in a veil of mist. For some reason, it's just a little more beautiful this way; The imperfections hidden in the soft, dispersed light.

Sometimes we choose to see the world through this veil. Just so it's prettier.