"the rain is gonna fall, the sun is gonna shine,

the wind is gonna blow, the water's gonna rise,

she said, when that day comes look into my eyes,

but no one's giving up quite yet, we've got too much to lose"

augustana, sweet and low

It all feels so poignant in this moment, the moment of all moments.

It's incredible, this being a part of the human race.

We can be so flippant, writing off other human beings because of petty observations. There is no time for that. None. Not one second. It's all about love and following your bliss no matter what. Living your life.

LIVING your life.

Living YOUR life.

Living your LIFE.

I think he feels like his life is over because he's so locked into that. It is frightening, the finality and severity of such a quick decision. I want to help him see that this is not the end.

Last night the car was a roller coaster that tumbled and jumbled between the stars, speeding along the edge of consciousness, the clicking mechanisms of a clock, the stalks of grass stronger than expected as we stomped and swished a crop circle, then another. The perfection of cloud shapes more defined than another night, a blimp and then who knows. True meditation arose, from blinking slowly stretching mi cuello and a unknown unbelievable rap upon which we embarked like a ship from any other second than right now.

What can we do but believe? How can we give up? How can we stop trying? It's gotta be worth it. Every last fucking one of us was born to fly, not to fall. We're gonna make it.

i am joy

i am outside the door

i am from the fields

carefully wishing

the products of trees

and the careful calculator keys

to the time of my mind

The last summer of my childhood has begun, but I can't help but think that that time has come and gone. Moments pass in a flurry of color and emotion, stimuli that blinds us from the real reality of time. What is time? I often doubt that it even exists - perhaps just a notion we invented to -- why? Keep track of the years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, all created for the purpose of watching them pass.