Guinness.

I drive along this island that seems to be the edge of the world and realize the sun hasn't even crested the mountain.top .There is so much expansiveness right along my side; the whole world it seems like.

How many times have I been here? Freedom in :My Face. It seems anything is possible; almost to the point where I've become paranoid. I think it and it is so. I say it and it happens, ten fold. Just last night I was talking about how I wanted to stay here and this morning I get that message asking me to; the message sent when I was talking about it, too.

I think of the people in my life that I never got to connect with the way I wanted to. How often I've held my self back out of respect and, it seems, the only result is a life that leaves me lonely and contemplative. But I think of all the things I've avoided. The lack of violence and betrayal because I was kind and loyal. I suppose it all works out in the end; I forget the game isn't over yet.

I think of how many people talk down to me. My entire life. Still. Like I don't know. Like I haven't a clue. Like I'm just floating, carelessly, like so many of you.

The repercussions of our actions fall on the few who take the time to dwell on them. Few Do. Dwell. And, Well... Maybe That's Good.

The source of beauty is a painful process. It takes digging and digging below the surface. It takes fearlessness as we dance along the edge's that so few experience. This depth; This expansiveness; This light that hasn't even appeared Yet. So few even notice it.

And I guess That's :My Poet.


xo