Four thousand miles away from Small Town America and I have just seen a ghost. My ghost. No, I am not dead, it was the ghost of who I was, who I would have been. And who am I now? Lets let the voters decide. Miles away with feet and hands and mouth, tied. Funny thing on the way to my life, this morning, one thirty to be exact, I am in a strange place of limbo that always seems to follow me wherever I go. Are we ever concrete on the ground though? With a hollywood reality always lurking around every corner, or in every new handshake of pleased to meet you. Death or life always in a shroud of taken for granted. Dear Dali Lama, I am really trying to live everyday in the now and to be at peace. Moving forward and moving back, will it ever make sense? What does it feel like to be in the place that you feel you are supposed to be? Sometimes I get the feeling that I have opened my mind up too much. That I've read too many books, that I am to open minded and not stubborn enough. That must be it. Damn, I was supposed to become like the weeping willow, bending with the changes that came my way. It seems though, I grew traveling roots.
Deep Breath and that is what oxygen is for
make ok the use of my lungs
beg and here is money in your pocket
and we converse about breathing easy again
night is really day to me and the time zone is what is making me equal here
they do not understand me and I do not understand them
I woke up from the dream and went to school naked
what is to get?
the books behind me remember that we once moved mountains
but the mountains have been moved away.
crimes against nature
ever gone to the wrong door with the right key?
force the lock open and then the key will fit.
at least to you it will.
Hathaway in the oh-nine (france)
night ladies and gents
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