ramblings of nothingness… a narrative

I

t was the evening of great sadness. it was the time when things weren’t right. if you had encountered these things perhaps you would understand the tone of the night. tomorrow always holds much promise. tomorrow is a never-ending bread basket of possible fortunes. it is as if you were to sleep for days and never encounter a discouraging thought or situation. but the eve of tomorrow is always different. the eve of tomorrow always holds the guttural bile of the intestinal belly of today. today is the only day that matters yet tomorrow always holds much more potential. how will we ever make the two worlds mix? you were there one time. you were there wearing that yellow jacket and carefully pressed jeans. you were there telling stories of times past. nothing really salient. just stories for the sake of stories. will your stories ever have any meaning? you look too cool. you look too cool in that yellow jacket of yours. haven’t we met before then? was that the first time we actually talked face to face to one another? isn’t this thing just talking back to me?