Adventure!

Words are explosions you can control. I do not speak projectiles. I do not vomit rockets as if I were trying to hail you. I speak butterflies on warm summer days gently floating across the air. I speak mountains into existence. I speak the dreams in my head they come out like a needle and thread and weave their way into reality. I speak visions. I speak so you can see the unseeable, the unknowable, the unthinkable.

Music is nothing but movement. Wind. The skies are blue. The hills are green. In love and so far out of it. The same old shennanigans never work the same way twice. Shake it up a bit. This morning I could breath into my reflection and make the girl starring back at me shimmer and shine.

Ripples are the only way anything ever starts. One. Four. Twelve. You always start alone (or do you?). It always ends in multitudes.

The way I have been thinking is anything but train-like. I have tree root thoughts these days. Everything is growing up and outwards. I'm growing jungles with all the things I think. Pirhannas are living in my waters. Best not fall in.

blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Haines Base, Haines Base,
Returning in 3. 2. 1.
Over and out.