In the forest and the desert…

When in search of some miscellaneous trail, you’ll often hear people, “looking for the road.” It means we are looking for earth that has been marked by animal footprints prior to our own.

If that road happens to be two person wide, it’s probably a highway to a point of significant interest- a viewpoint to take a bearing, or a river to fill water, perhaps.

But here…

A road is earth that has been manipulated and placed in predetermined locations, planned by the conscious human mind, to serve the human race.

A highway may consist of two or four lanes, or it may consist of sixteen. The highway leads to more roads.

Perhaps,

a word is just a word, with a direct and simple meaning; but strung together, words have a depth which is virtually unknown. In the end, I’m not so sure words can be accurate in any sort of way.

Pretending, 

the streetlights are moonbeams,
the cars waterfalls and forest chatter.                                                                                                                                   

                                                                  When the mountains disappeared,  

                                                                  the speed limit never increased,                                                                       drivers never became more aggressive.

People aren’t rushing here,
their smiles aren’t plastered on for show…

[ I’ve been off living in dreamworld. 
Someone slipped acid in my drink. 

 Nature can’t possibly influence our human, 
the landscape can’t possibly make the person. ]

I must live to be another coffee sold at Starbucks, 
another car whizzing from one Grand Central to the next.

I should work to fill the role,
dress to tell the part.

There is always somewhere to be, 
something to obtain.

 
No time to pause and see the story unfold. 

If I stop pretending,
I’ll lose my place… 
I’ll fail the race…
Oh no…