Crest and Trough

The hour is so late it is early. I find that the roads are mostly mine, which is good because my legs are powering the device that is carrying me from 'a' to 'b.' Outside of the law, the only ones out are rodents, bums, drunks, and druggies. I wonder which category I fall into. While I am not drunk, I have had a few drinks. In my mind, a druggie is someone who takes serious drugs, like the man who approaches me in the middle of the road on my way home. One look at him tells me that he is higher than I will ever choose to be. Maybe I am a sort of functional bum. No, that's not right. Come to think of it, I am none of those things. I am like water, but not in the way I always thought I would be. Water does not like being water, nor does it have any choice in the matter. The world throws endless obstacles in its path, but it flows on. No matter how much shit is thrown its way, how many times it gets stomped on and forgotten, water keeps to its end, sometimes losing the path, sometimes going against itself, by itself, but ever enduring. I may never be triumphant, but I will be persistent.