#waveworn

I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man: The man who sat on your right in the morning train: The man who looked through like a windowpane: The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting Morning pipe smoke. I am the man too busy with a living to live, Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch: The man who is patient too long and obeys too much And wishes too softly and seldom.

I am the man they call the nation's backbone, Who am boneless - playable castgut, pliable clay: The Man they label Little lest one day I dare to grow.

I am the rails on which the moment passes, The megaphone for many words and voices: I am the graph diagram, Composite face.

I am the led, the easily-fed, The tool, the not-quite-fool, The would-be-safe-and-sound, The uncomplaining, bound, The dust fine-ground, Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round

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The Man In The Bowler Hat

Arthur Seymour John Tessimond  1902-1962

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Tohru stood outside of a building, leaning up against it as he loosely held a cigarette up to his mouth. He was supposed to be meeting his friend but his job held him up and so Tohru was alone. His plan was to finish the cigarette, maybe grab something to eat, then go home. There was no point in being out if Mattsun wasn’t going to be with him and he didn’t even have one of his books with him. He looked up, watching the smoke rising from his cigarette. His spacing out was interrupted by someone he assumed worked in whatever building he was leaning against. They seemed to be asking him to not smoke in front of the building.

i love u no matter where u are…and will always hold onto that hawk eraser just in case you decide you want it after all