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Because ideas cross minds like contrails.
They do share turbulence and need: to describe, prescribe, relate, to quickly freeze: a given sight or vision. As a recap of a premonitory flash.
They bring an ‘I think I saw you the other day’ feeling.
Through the window.
On-site.
On the street.
On a book.
On a picture, while trippin around a social networking slide show.
I saw you. I’ve met you. I draw you. You relate. Thank you. Nice to meet you (again and again and again).
We’ve become friends over the passing years. We use to hang out pretty often. You’re near my torso, on the side pocket of most jackets. You’re red, black or pink—depends on which store you’re brought from. You don’t hold any lines or you hold a thousand squared grids to be fulfilled.
Tickling and tickling.
You kill those seconds to go. You release, as an x-ray, anxiety, and pressure.