even though I filed it down recently.
Funny how peaceful it is up here
but when I close my ears,
the cacophony of outdoor sounds
is almost overwhelming.
Not loud enough to actually be.
Instead it's like a dream,
when you're in it,
it's all quite normal,
fits together without any questioning,
at least mine do
but when you think about it in a more conscious state,
it is bizarre.
My ears are like a dog's,
turning this way or that to the sounds.
The high flatulent birds tweeting,
wish I knew what they were saying,
water running into the pot for ginger tea,
car engines zooming by down below,
light switch turning on,
crunch of a tortilla chip,
leaves on the tree swaying in the breeze,
the scratching on my arm.
Wild what the funk?
I feel so freaking normal.
I bang my feet on the hardwood floor hoping
for something to wake up.
it's time to dig.
Do you dig it, man?
I love that expression,
makes me feel like I am in the 60's or something.
I know I am in the right time and place
which is right now
but I have a thing for that time period when people were waking up,
starting a revolution,
had big hair,
crazy bell bottoms,
running around naked
and taking LSD.
All things I can do right now
but I still enjoy romanticizing about it.
Who's to say one of my soul fragments isn't living it right now?
It doesn't matter anyways.
It can take me anywhere I want.
To jump in a giant bouquet of flowers and
I bliss out.