sitting in my car, the windows half down, the smoke slowly rising, dancing, being chased from my sight out the window. the annoying clatter of my broken windshield wipers as they clamor across my glossy window. the rain slowly dripping down and splattering across the window. constantly dripping, and sliding between other drips, and merging with other, only to be swept or smeared away by the totalitarian force of the wipers. every so often though, a drip of two make it between the wipers, where they are broken and continue on their journey down my window. and i think to my self as i take another drag on my cigarette, that's how i feel. like there's always some driving force trying to merge me into someone else, like they want me too, or they'll just obliterate me into void, and toss me onto the abyss of the puddle forming on the ground. how i fight to make it between the wipers, and to escape the length of they're grasp. but the light turn green, and i just drive away...