10:32 pm

Purple thoughts.
Why is it so confuuuusing? I hear all the words and i read all the lines, but nowhere does there seem to be that CLICK.
Sometimes I wish for yarn. Sometimes I wish that the barrier between us would shatter like country walls. I drive along the road. The clouds are so high and so distant.
I hate them for that.
What we all really need is a day of focused redemption. Take some time from the radio static and the buzzing monitors and the pencil sharpeners and the screen savers. This is what will someday awaken such desire for a sense of completion. Those electronics and virtual distractions help blind us of the world and help plug out the truth behind corruption.
One morning I was sitting in the passengers seat and thought, 'here i am in a vehicle. A polluting vehicle on a paved road where construction workers can't seem to put their efforts into something that will actually have positive benefits. I mean, why fix something that's not broken? Honestly...but anyway I was sitting there and I was looking up at the sky. The sky is blue. The sky is not to be touched and yet everyone strives to travel such lengths to see beyond it. My heart thumped for just a brief second. It wasn't even a second. Less than a second. That's when I understood why our world is like it is. There's this impenetrable fence, or net more like it, keeping us from everything. We're stuck, and yeah, we feel some spirituality seep through the small holes, but really....we're stuck. Stuck. Life is precious and we're stuck. That brief less-than-second moment just made me want to cry. But not fully weep...just cry for that split moment of time and let everything out in such a quick way. Seeping out and i'm slipping down. It was then that I realized how much my life is yearning for that wholeness because everything we go through in time is so small in comparison to what we're striving for. Maybe it's books and knowledge and poetry and science and love and coffee that keep us all sane, but maybe they're exactly what are tearing us apart as well.'

And the days are like a mass heron attack on the seas of our hearts but also the booming sound of every voice and every tear and every step travelled on this green, telephone pole, beautiful, civilized, wondrous, creative, uncivilized, mistaken land.