muddled tones of advice.

i can't make any sense of it. the more it plays around, spinning, muddled tones of advice from former loves and lifelong friends, the less coherent my merry-go-round of thoughts becomes.
i am the fighter, gasping for air, searching for visionary focus as a right decimates my rib cage, a right shatters my jaw.
i am not broken, no, far from it, just a long ways away. viewing situations from an atmospherically drifting hot air balloon, curling a mustache around my index finger, pointing a telescope across the midwestern plains in an attempt to gain clarity.
it appears i have beached upon a safe-haven, or at the very least have found a port which will soon provide shelter from the constantly raging storm of disillusionment and despair that is often times life.
the free flowing construction can begin, providing an environment to put down roots, deep into the fertile soil of these upper-midwestern plains. i can watch this dream grow, watch it falter, but in the end see the fruition of my carefully planned works.
most days as i sit on the docks of this northern wilderness i cast my line and contemplate how have i covered such a great distance in such a short span of time. a year ago, i was trapped in my own miseries and short comings, stranded, broken, alone in the purest senses of the all consideration. i was lost in ambition, a casualty of youthful zeal and fool hearty dreaming. there was little hope etched into the palms of my hands.
then the horizon was painted pink by the hand of god in the second dawn of my lifetime. i was given a new chance, and i have made it through to this point. carefully measured steps building upon one another to provide a brighter tomorrow. yes, there has been pitfalls, there have been missteps, there have been snares. i have been able to avoid them, conquer them, decimate them.
so now, i wonder what comes next. i have ideas, i have dreams, i have the presence of mind to conquer the immediate obstacles. however, i toss and fret in my sleep about the longer ranges. the somedays. the possibilities. the dreams i am having to let die.
so now i will hold a vigil for the great desires of my youth. line up and pass the flagon, we will all drink until our heads spin and our mouths babble whole-hearted apologies. this is the last chance to make atonement, for tomorrow the sun will rise with a whole new set of limitations and opportunities. tomorrow the sun will rise and find us back in our beds, dreaming of what once was, what will be, what was never feasible. then we will go find it, and hold it against our chests. the morning sun will be our heart, the moon our lantern as we pass through the gates of the golden cities of imagination.



shhhhh! listen:
"walking after you" - the foo fighters (the colour and the shape)
"the one who loves you the most" - brett dennen (so much more)
"cecilia ann" - the pixies (bossanova)
"155" - plus 44 (when your heart stops beating)
"send my body" - randy travis (storms of life)
"baron" - johnny cash (baron)