Don't ever get too excited or expect anything.

Walking through the smell of grass and the creaking shacks, reminds me of home. Wonder if my father had done the same, felt the same thirty years ago. We think and feel too alike to ever get along. We read each other too well, to live in the alternate world that we created to hide from each other. I'll never understand.

I found equilibrium


In these petty crimson colored clouds.

Oh, how I am a walking paradox.

I feel little again.

A circle.

When I was little I wrote that I wanted to become the greatest journalist in the world and win "a lot of pulitzer prices"

I still want the same things. :)

Something about
These crimson colored clouds
Make me shout and then fall
Into a deep sleep.

What happened.

Dear Prudence,

won't you come out to play
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful and so are you
Dear Prudence won't you come out to play

Dear Prudence open up your eyes
Dear Prudence see the sunny skies
The wind is low the birds will sing
That you are part of everything
Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?

I love this song, but I don't want to talk about it.