Death is the end of it all we dry up like the cracked desert floor and wither like a garden choked of sunlight.
Until then we must run down the streets naked trying to pick up are clothes along the way.
Until then we must produce the robotic movements of a human machine to pick up paper and exchange it for energy.

I dont want to be like that.
It is so easy to live for now and accept a monotous routine that will bring cheap thrills and wasted youth.
wasted talent.
washed up old men.
they are both the same.
live life but work hard and be happy.
feeling bad? have a bad relationship.
go get something done.
find a hobby you love!
everyone can do something great in this world
that includes you!


Too me
the man i see downtown on the corner bench outside the cherry street misson
sitting up with his head down limp, eyes closed and helpless asleep.

could and just may be, the most interesting man in the world..





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