Bars of soap on oil

Absorption. Awareness. I feel a sense of detachment as I observe others. I could stare at a person and study their face, their expression, pretend I could read their thoughts and not be afraid that they'd notice. I like it. The ice in my fingertips, the chill in the air... these things should bother me but they don't.

Things are more fascinating than usual. The cars glide by ever so smoothly. Like bars of soap on oil. Oil thickly spread on bowling lanes. Is this what it's like? Everything is music. That loud honk from the truck sounds ridiculously melodious. It's easy to brush things off. Jealousy is irrelevant. Responsibilities? It feels so natural to be selfish.

Emotional pain tries to take me into its embrace. From behind, it hopes to take me by surprise. I'm not surprised. I stay silent, I don't fight it, I let it go through me. It will pass, and become... nothing. Soon, I will forget what the big deal is.

Hazel eyes, amber eyes, brown eyes. Eyes that stay as eyes. Kaleidoscopes of color and speckles. Windows of the soul- what bullshit.