"The Three Philosophers"

And I thought I would be way off. Only wishful thinking.


It still is, in large part. But what a voyage it was, into the depths of the human condition, the creative mind. What lack of sensory abduction knows no other borders. When the toothpick marks the 8 ball a small but brittle crumbling goes missing. The counterpart makes the appearance more steadily known, as far and distant.

So many theories now. Road trip this summer, Europe next summer. Camping/hiking, Atlantic City trip(s), moving into Summerdale. What the fuck. How did I get here and for what reason?

"We say more by saying nothing at all." Thanks, Brandon Boyd. What a master of the vocal translation of our collective existence. What a legend.

What happened? I always answer the same: Too much and not enough. Too much of what I came here for, too little of what draws me deeper. If I had the dictation in my own dribble to choose, none would be no option.

We don't have that now. We are rotting inside out. There is only the grain and stony whisper to take root in the shoulder.

Thanks, now and never again.