On the matter of living

[teh_flah]

I was riding back from the site of my job as we pulled to a stop before the old one lane bridge. The weather here on Chincoteague is always dreary when we come up. While sitting there I noticed a construction crew worker facing me who was leaning against the rail-work of the new bridgeway being built. He was a black man, probably around my age, and he was just sitting there looking down at the water. His partners were turned away, probably talking about something completely different from what the man's mind was set on. As we pulled away, I thought about how my day had been the same way, just dragging on and on, not really working, but 'at work.' It made me think, how many of us alive, are actually living? Or are we just existing to make a living? Is this tiresome bullshit enough to substantiate our real goals?

DEEP THOUGHTS. NOT TRYING TOO HARD TO WRITE IN STORY FORMAT. OH SHIT RUN.

In other news, I've noticed the images for my LJ don't display from my laptop. This is intriguing. More at 11'.

~TeH_FlaH