The smooth blues are playing in the background.
It's a familiar smell, although that is my only tryst with familiarity. It's a new path, and maybe you can wait till I find a suitable adjective to describe it?

How many times can you repeat something in your head before it runs down your face and washes away? I try to pass it off as sweat, sometimes. But only sometimes, lest they call me a bunch of nerves.

I put blinders near my eyes - although it's actual purpose is to block out that dreaded neurotics, and pep up the observations.

Tomorrow over coffee and conversations, I could be just the other girl in the coffee shop.