the aftereffects of the shuffling days prove themselves in ways yet to be seen, there are hopes and there are dreams, each contained in it's own imaginative plastic wrapper, shiny and sweet, the papers will be signed and the deeds are done, there is too much space, unfamiliarity, the adventure is what it is, but when the sun sets, darkness erupts.....
an attempt to keep it positive is the best course of action, of course, but FUCK!, how does this triangle operate, one step forward, two back, and then one from the side, the work is salvation today, tomorrow i will hope that the pipes will hold, the simple things are of great importance in this menacing silence..................
inching forward at another's pace, the results of one too few hours spent in the service of a few too many, which could be of anything or anyone, this night now passes and hands bring a slow burn of hope, the past is still alive and well but impotent in it's grab for attention, best forgotten, left for dead, much like the very ground underfoot, only now, the future............
