GET OFF MY CASE

I'M TALKING TO MYSELF OF COURSE. 

BUT I GUESS I'M TALKING TO THE WORLD TOO

BECAUSE HOW CAN I NOT BE

ALL OF ITS PRESSURES AND NEEDS

IT IS THE WORLD I CREATED THOUGH

SO

MAYBE IT IS JUST MYSELF

I'M TALKING TO

IDK

MAYBE I JUST NEED TO QUIT, QUIT ALL THE

SMILES I'M WANTED TO FAKE

ALL THE BALLS I'M WANTED TO JUGGLE

LET THEM FALL 

LET THEM FALL 

LET THEM FALL FOR SO CALLED "FRIENDS"

LET THEM FALL FOR SO CALLED "IDOLS"

LET THEM FALL,AND LISTEN TO THE BEAUTIFUL SHATTER THEY CREATE

THEN WALK OUT THE DOOR

...

...

...

I'VE  FANTASIZED ABOUT THAT

( F R E E )    FUTURE

TOO

    MANY

TIMES

in like a lion, out like lamb

I am not adverse to the strengthening winds.

I feel the harkening back of time in this wind and rain. Back to my clandestine excursions before thunderstorms,

Kicking up sand.

 Never feeling more wild. Never more free than standing on the top of a mountain of sand believing in the great beyond just off the edge of sight.

A sudden CRACK/FLASH of lightening drives you harder,

you run faster than you've ever run before, demons chasing you, back to the pine needles and the moss covered ground.

Taking shelter up against the water tanks.

Watching them fill. Listening. Listening to the plops splash blurps chirps. Listening to them. Wonder where you went. 

Sparing them that heartache.

Coming up the stairs like you were there all along. Knowing that you could never truly share that which you just experienced. Knowing that moment was yours.

Alone.  

Yoga with Lydia in the park.

Hillsborough St. // Critter

Highlights from Saturday's gallery show at Holder. Thanks to Critter for your beautiful art.