Even in my dreams...
... I am beginning to wonder...
... which direction the stems of reality grow.
There are no borders between us.
We are all children of flesh, tooth and nail.
We are all dreams scattered on the thrush of the forest floor.
You know, living in two places has really confused my sense of recognition...
"Hey, is that Jimmy?"
"Oh... Right."
Once you start reading into developmental psychology...
... you start to realize...
... how much the Beanie Babies corporation feeds off of a child's attachment disorder.
The leaves are changing now, from shades of myrtle to crimson and goldenrod...
When they dance, I can hear them softly whispering to each other...
Perhaps they are saying their goodbyes...
I look at humans just like I look at every other animal in the kingdom.
Dancing, fighting, and fucking, all for the sake of prolonging the success of our genetic information.
Is that really so wrong?
Every window embedded in a concrete wall...
... is a different story...
I miss the sweltering summer heat...
... that would give you an excuse to take a nap...
... and two o'clock in the afternoon.
I had a dream that I was in a field, faced by at least a dozen aggressive Moon bears...
They changed into Native Americans, and I fought them with sticks...
I guess that's appropriate, being the Thanksgiving weekend and all.
"Actually, could I get a water, please? Sorry."
In a dark bar, surrounded by beautiful, young human beings, I cannot help but think how I will grow old someday...
What a drunken thought, indeed.
... for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again...
