lost in the hustle of it all. repeating what was going on, over and over, grabbing the phone, checking for updates on the news, on messages, then over to work. walking through the hallways, looking for vacancy, signs of leaks, taking notice of smells and things out of place. repetition comforts many, in a time in our lives we seek it out. we seek a rhythm to it all. even if we step out of pace, we need to keep dancing.
locked in our rooms with no music at all will drive us all crazy.

pushing the imaginary all forward. the rules we cannot see, feelings and all the other things that we don’t see but still know are real.
lines drawn in imitation sand, punishable with threats of shame and ridicule, from a young age we steer the children into submission. conform, adjust and prepare for the hard times that come.
anxiety and stress, borne from the pain of our ancestors and the threats of a future that looms dark ahead.
mixtures of storm clouds gather to swallow us all up, prepare the basements and ration the food, hold on.

when the sun shines, the birds come out and sing. smiles form, warmth blankets the ground, spring arrives. playfulness assumes, even the old and the super young stretch their arms and embrace it. such is the wonders of a sunny day. the disposition changes, from grey days comes a warmth of genuine depth. it is in the disparity and distance of cold to hot that change can truly be measured. a free man cannot truly know his release unless he had once been captured. take someone out from the comforts of their day, put a gun to their face or scare them with the fears of the dark and then walk away, then the feelings of gratefulness will be felt.