Why a person is who they are, who they were and who they're becoming? The vagaries of personality? Huh!... Junk food for pedants.
When he became weather possessed is anybody's guess. The telltale signs ultimately revealed in the repetition of gesture.
They were hard to spot until they were impossible to miss - the distant skyward stare ("what the fuck you lookin' at Walter?"), the incessant tap of the iphone app, unanticipated apocalyptic inferences about climate change.
I could predict and correlate his mood using a thermometer. Jesus! It reminded me of the way suits track the stock market, all jittery grimaces and elated smiles (a cowardice form of smoking crack if ya ask me. Never understood it, never will, don't care to).
Obsession ain't bean bag. Walter became el loco plus. Compulsion and cute don't mate. I had to add one extra elbow of space between us as a precaution to god-knows-what.
Each next day toppled the previous like an endless stream of forecasts until Walter became anyone but Walter.
What side of the ledger a man ends up on? Happenstance. Or perhaps, as a pal once opined, motherfuckery.
As it is, so shall it be. Best to leave it at that.
Inspired in spirit by Lou Beach's 420 Characters.