Day No. 322: Rusted Pipe.

I woke up this morning, had a couple of oily noodles and saw my team got held to a dour draw. You wondered where it'd gone, the horizon was a grey sky morning as I surveyed the vertical plances. Thought it was good for a run. So I went out.

My legs felt like rusted pipes, or it's been switched with plastic. They can last but are dead. I wonder why some people persevere. So I tried. Then an old friend nagged at me. It's called a throbbing pain, if you're wondering. 40min of her. Have I gotten enough of her? But I'd change for the better because of her. Did it matter? Yes it did. 40min, or 40 years. Does it matter? I wonder myself now. I really can't see. She's not saying anything. We don't say a word. This beautiful pain as I start to run. I don't see you, but I feel. Your very existance tells me you're the most beautiful woman a man can have. For you, I am grateful. For you, I will grow a most beautiful flower. For you, I will always be here.