A youngster with an old soul, sitting on ledges of high looking out across the sky, wondering what this is all about? Born alone, always alone, how is one so young able to know? Déjà vus, synchronicities steady following me throughout the days, dreams trying to teach me.
Simulated reality it seems, some thoughts recognizable, some obscene…why must I feel so damn deeply?! Friends come and go on lifes winds, love, love lives here not, eluding forever more. Last night I looked the devil in the eyes and mirrored its evil grin, I am nothing now without my paper and pen, living now on a constant whim. Bouncing from place to place as I’ve always been, gathering information, lifes experiences to “turn back in.” Using my thoughts to see if you can sneak in, never able to find an equal mind…a blue bird told me they broke the mold after making my kind.