Often, I love having this outlet for some of the relatively lukewarm issues I encounter on a daily—or maybe weekly—basis.
It is good to have such outlets. It can be cathartic.
Writing always helps me control the chaos.
However, if things escalate beyond a certain level, I feel uncomfortable talking about them, which further makes it more difficult to handle an already difficult situation.
And, instead, I shift the conversation to something more mundane, something easier to discuss.
Something like the weather.
Speaking of which, it has been pretty warm, lately. I am not unfamiliar with such heat, but not am I comfortable with it.
I hope it rains soon.
I have no real reason to believe that it will, but a man can hope, right?
After all, it has to rain, right? Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon.
Till it does, I just need to survive, right?
Lying under the searing sun, alone, I await the rain.