The grasshopper, with the orange back legs, seems to have more purpose than I. Why he chooses to walk instead of hop is a mystery I can’t unravel. Maybe the sun knows? What does he seek, this grasshopper who’s face is also orange? I’ll never know this either. Am I watching myself from above seeing I have no direction? No purpose, other than going from one small pleasure to the next? Other than looking for a relationship that feels good for a while? What kind of life is that? Entering into relationships with the full expectation and knowledge that they will dwindle and fail. The trees enter into relationships for mutual benefit, how long do those connections last? I look back up from writing and the grasshopper is gone. Did he hop or walk?
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