minutes left to write something. whirling words through my brain, i've got empty pockets and no grey mater vibrating. i feel change riding in on an unassuming wind. i hear subtlety sliding down morning rays and getting soaked in...
and what is today but another try. another view. a different painting with bold brush strokes.
another you holding tight to your magic. blazing blue aura and rings of fire. in the middle of a city, hiding in the forest. wearing strange symbols and v-neck sweaters, taunting the goddess and stealing pan's recorder.

we're all deep and precious souls, even the misguided stuck in dark corners. we huddle in masses or fake our way down the lonely street. we jump into compartments, plastic dolls that we are. mold to strange hands, melt under others. we are bunches of atoms, assembled stardust...