used to be i'd guzzle beer
and wade in whiskey up to here;
it seemed to be the only thing to do.

i'd cheat at cards and hang in bars
and ride around in drunken cars,
but that all changed when I laid eyes on you.

i see you.
you puff up your words and arrange them cleverly
but I can still see you.

it's sorta like visiting-day at the jail,
each separated from the other by a piece of glass.

afloat on the binary sea of switches flipping on and off, ones and zeros, flipping so incredibly fast,
you hover there and
appear before me and
i see you.

if you see me too, let me know.

the realization that each random passerby is living a life
as vivid and complex as your own --
populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries,
and inherited craziness --
an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill
sprawling deep underground,
with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives
that you'll never know existed,
in which you may appear only once,
as an 'extra' sipping coffee in the background,
as a blur of traffic on the highway,
as a lighted window at dusk.

something as innocent as the flutter of a butterfly wing
could result in a typhoon on the other side of the world.

please be mindful.

what they call passion isn’t really any kind of emotional energy,
just the friction of their souls together in the outside world.

It is commonly thought
(and taught)
that humans have five senses through which they perceive the world.
Contrary to that convention,
it is my belief
that sentient beings have but one sense
that encompasses the entire organism,
which not only enables them to perceive the world of sticks and stones
that is customarily referred to as reality,
but also the waves of energy upon which that illusion sails