It's not just me, right?
i’m guessing most humans get side tracked by trying to decipher older notes + scribbles meant to be meaningful additions to their personal repertoire.
Random thoughts are very clear.
Extrapolating knowledge from a cereal box - every morning it’s the next biggest thing.
A lampshade has been put on the dancer this time + the marley floor has been washed w/ soda as to warn the audience w/ tac-tacking steps. Keeping the butts awake in case they do not see the long shadows cast from their own theater seats.
Itchy trigger fingers not waiting for a queue — aiming only to be noticed. Not a very good reason to fire.
The evolution of the calendar. What type of personality wakes up in the morning w/ the thought of changing the yearly calendar? What some people do in the name of science others do just for kicks.
Daylight dispels the phantoms of the night. In these dark hours are we a generation of dreamers? Or, were we born to a generation of dreamers.
Walking on a dune, i look down onto a desolate shore. Presently kiosks magically appear scattered about near the water — creating ritual opportunities. i can see far off folks taking bleached paper from bamboo cages + folding it into large monarchs.
Others heading toward the shore catch up to me. i become a group, then, the converging crowd overtakes me, walking faster toward the origami monarchs as the delicate wings come to life down near the shore. The butterfly ceremony at the waters edge has been supplanted w/ the masses that presently have woven deep w/in the sandy mob.
i can almost keep up, but am relishing the view from afar.
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