This is to the world and how god damn beautiful it is.

No matter how solid or structured or set you think you are, there is, you know, a very thin line keeping us all from sort of chaos, in some perspective. And you know, I don't view that really as a negative thing at all, but it just is the truth.

But planes land and so do I, and suns rise, melting away the grounds cool protection. I am finally free, if only for this moment. And should that be the case, then know that I am throwing a parade in first class as I speak. Art has again saved my life, my love and me. What next? Who really cares? Certainly a toast will be in order. Make mine a double.

You don't have to push or pull or fight or win, the struggle is illusory. Sometimes or rather, all times, you just have to be.

I consider myself a person like everyone else, and I take my time writing my records because I feel like it captures more of who I am. You have a much greater chance of hitting on themes and points...that could play into someone else's life in a larger way.

Suddenly it makes sense again. In no haze of mindfulness, staring down at this snow-covered quilt of America, I am the stars exploding. Voice shot down to hell, half sick, half recovered, alive and well and ready. The unknown for now will remain as such and in this moment that feeling is not one of suspension. It is the hopeful unknown. Reaching into the future could only be good now as the past is wrapping itself in ribbons and pleasant packing paper, rarely to be revisited.

With each new day it becomes more apparent to me that everything and everyone in this world is connected in some beautiful and inexplicable way, and the more I accept that, the more my world seems to come together.