I'm making friends.

These.
People.
Are always around me.
I start out at six the A.M. and they flock. A different man asking if it's morning. Answering his own question with quiet return. We all stand there waiting for this thing. Looking for it from time to time. Watching, drinking coffee and the whole while just a little insane and the gerbil in our mind finally figures it all out... becoming disgusted with the whole morning ritual. And back again.
Pretty girls and the morning crack junkies. Just distractions. I need to hurry out of this. Here comes a beggar.
The train stops and goes like a machine we fight to get aboard. It's a quiet fight. Some are eyes shut like me some are coffee like me. Some begin to talk.
We slowly converse. We become human again. We like our girlfriends and our dreams of breakfast. We ask questions about books and smell like booze. We reach out.
A little.
It's good.
It's like a constant end.