Small Instant in Time

It is raining and I can see the little raindrops dripping from the lamp post. The deep blue sky of the night, the subtle shimmer of the rain on the grass, the little water ponds streaming, moving, flowing.

A small instant in time.

The leaves of the bushes barely moving from the raindrops hitting from the sky.

And I keep thinking: we are all going to be forgotten. No one will remember my existence, no witness to my mundane life. It is a relief. Who is truly looking? Nothing really matters.

So we need to be true.

I keep looking at this yellow light lamp post, and I wonder. I just keep wondering.

Will someone read my shitty writing? Why the need to share through writing? Why the need to express at all?

Same answer, always. Relation. Connection. The recognition of my unoriginal thoughts in someone else.

I will better just keep looking at the lamp post, keep looking at the beautiful rain and the deep blue night of this little moment, soon to be forgotten forever in time.