Portrait of a Scene from a Song

I have obligated myself to post something every day, and most always before bed, although I've nothing really to write tonight. Instead I think I'll just turn this entry into an avant garde exercise in linguistics and metaphor.

I wrote a sentence earlier for oneword.com that I really liked, but I've forgotten it now. It went something like this next sentence.

The rain speaks more about his frayed and leprous mind than any of the curses he randomly shouts into the night, matting his hair and soaking his bleach-stained sweatshirt, causing the fabric to stick to his body with scandalous gasps. The moon itself seems to fall upon him in shadowless fistfulls and tiny refracting drops, until he can no longer stand the weight of it and sits in the road, shaking his head and mouthing indistinct words to his naked feet.

I think some day I'll name an entry The Soul Miner's Daughter, but I can't seem to make the title work for this one. Maybe I'll just title a song with it. Something about Space Madness would close this entry nicely.