Last night a man stood outside our apartment building screaming. Yelling every thought & response to each conversation that filled his sick mind. Nothing falling from his lips made any sort of sense to the audience of bothered listeners. I however, could have listened to him for hours on end. Windows wide open. Only separated by netted screens. I listened. Calmed by the shaking echos of his nonsensical narrations. I listened. Almost envious of the certainty in his voice. His lack of mindfulness beckoning my lack of perception. The unseen canyons of my subconscious now flooding with his translation. How twisted is this head of mine to desire my own abiding, blustering interpretation. One that echos my own nonsensical narrations. Just listen. Only filtered by netted screens, with windows wide open. Just listen. And to the conversations that fill this sick mind, I wish i could just listen.