Rambling

A sense of falling, that's what's been prevalent of late, the world spinning out of control (and I can relate ). Has me wondering what is random and what is fate,

and the world that I see I'd rather not restore , makes more sense to create....

Something out of this swirling storm that smells of chaos and death, something so that this gasping...whole.... can catch breath. Headed in this direction is desolation, nothing left. Streets ran by gangs, dealers , racists and spun out on meth. I guess maybe I'm just rambling on about some of the things that seem to be wearing, rubbing and chaffing until I lose

my bearing. And I forget . Forget to breathe and close my eyes, forget that energy never dies, forget to take a trip inside. So I take two steps forward and three steps back, settle in and wait for the next attack.