A hard drive crash could make a philosopher out of you nowadays

A hard drive crash could make a philosopher out of you nowadays. I'm in front of my blank computer monitor and looking outside of the window at the gloomy roads and rushing wind and the murky melancholic high-humid clouds and the dark shadow on the wet back of the usual fast moving crowd, maybe out of solitude, maybe out of all the rude words came unintentionally to hurt the close ones, and not-so-close ones, maybe out of remorse, and maybe out of all the knives that were thrown at my back.

I think about the collective unconsciousness about life that grew old with me, like a lady's lace parasitic plant that clung onto me without me noticing. And I think about the departure gate at the airport, and I see love in their cries of goodbyes, and I convince myself that I too am in someone's thoughts as a reflection of their own selves in their Starbucks coffee cups at the moment.

So damn you windows 10. I'm just boring myself to, yeah, a slow death on such a rainy day.