Things Happen

Things happen. Don't they?

Even when the real thing I wanted was right there in front of me, it felt like hours before i successfully reached down and picked up the brief case.
I looked at the man sitting in front of me. I stared into his eyes.
Blue. The shape of blue that meant that he didn't care what i said, nothing would sway his morality code.
My eyes flashed up to his hair.
Brown. The shade that meant that meant that he might have been kind before this, but i would never know
Nothing happened. But Nothing was good, wasn't it? Nothing swam throughout my life. It talked to me in my dreams. It would laugh at my jokes. It sometimes would even sign my paycheck, but right now Nothing was a stranger. Someone that seemed like it was my friend, but went onto better things.
I never knew why a man like this would be the one who would change my laugh. I still don't know. He seemed to harmless and bright to do anything as crewel as what was being done to me. Maybe he went to college. Maybe he had a girlfriend. Her name could have been Susan. She could have been beautiful. Maybe he met her while he was on a trip to the beach. Maybe he met her on a date. Irony wasn't anything i hadn't seen before.
But with all these thoughts in my head, i was still just a man selling his soul to the devil. Someone who didn't think about the moment at hand, but thought about what you would think about on a saturday, late at night, alone in your apartment, in a bathtub, with candles lit...
And my mind wonders off again...
Moment's like these happened often. They would tell the world a story. Whether the world understood the story or not, was their problem; not mine. I knew what was going on. I know my history. I know why that case in front of me is important.
I know the name of the man.
I know my own name.
I know why i'm in this situation.
And you know nothing.
But isn't that what makes the world stupid? Isn't that what makes people think that they understand?
Nothing is more than just a friend of mine, it's a friend to the world. Nothing makes people feel smart. You already have an idea of what i'm going through, don't you? And yet, if I tell you my name is Bill, you'll believe me? Why?

Because Things happen.

It doesn't matter if they don't affect you? The information i've told you is enough to get you thinking. But to get you worried? To get anyone concerned? I'd have to say that the man's name, i'd have to point out the gun he has in a holster hidden under his blazer, that i only saw when he bent over to get the pen he dropped on the ground.
Now you care, right? Now this situation seems real. Something to grab your attention. Something that you care about.
So now, tell me what happens. Why do you care...? You tell me. Because really...

Things happen. Don't they?