oh, goodness...

This morning...clouds. No, not me. The sky. I'm fine. I can say, though, I walked over some patchy grass cutting the sidewalk corner, finger up my nose and my nail scooped a fine idea. While an Asian woman passed with a yellow Labrador. She saw. And my hand retreated and cupped the coagulated mucus, or better, the booger, and I passed her with acting confidence saying in my step that she imagined the whole damn thing, but watching her from the back corner of my eye gave it all away, and, yes, my cupped hand did too. I needed to roll the object between my fingers. For my fingers' sake?... ... ... To feel the quick pinch-the crust inflicting a spot of pain?...Or for the sake of my brain? The pleasure of the act alone. Well, pain is a message sent from the brain, perhaps it's all upstairs. Then what the hell are my fingers doing? Ah, expand, Michael! This is not worth the contemplation...