A day Older

Castlewood mania. Not quite autumn colors yet.

When your mind isn't prepared for things seems to be when things happen. It is that planning that always seems wrong.
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I am a firm believer that good things happen to good people and that karma catches up with everyone.
My thoughts are scrambled and my words make little sense. I need to form full thoughts in this next month.

Leaves that Breathe

Ciao!

So much to say and so little of it can I write.

Boulder is now more than a hop, a skip, or a long jump away with Autumn in the air. Sea Bear and Modena City Ramblers fill my brain. Exploration is what I desire but I know that it can also be my downfall. As we approach the edge of the cliff the sights are amplified in their beauty, yet the danger increases.

Nothing worthwhile and beautiful is safe.

A yellow pad of lined paper makes me think. It's not some game. This is life. The way I feel you cannot begin to imagine. A bird trying to fly with clipped wings. A damaged deer leaning on the highway median.
Do you hear these words I say? I am bent on them. I am an unstoppable train that will run over anything in it's path. I have my problems, but then again who doesn't? I realize what they are and I conquer. I am not backing down.
You sit on the sidelines watching. Afraid. You can ride your high horse, but I'm going where the horses can't. I'm my own type of animal...one you will never understand.

The unfinished work burns through my tables.

I've got fire in my soul and a melody in my head. I'm putting the two together so you can maybe one day understand. Not the whole thing, but just a piece because a little is better than nothing. But I'll give you this much to ponder. You hear these words and I am the happiest I have ever been.

714

Here we go again.

Dancing under the sun, our shoes are fun of sins. They pin us as liars, haters, and negative nancies, but our own sunset is what we see. It is the rhythm inside our heads that push us farther. They can't understand. They never will.
We speak a foreign language which humanity cannot comprehend. Because of this we suffer, but rising like the dough, our hot air balloon heads stay afloat.

To Kill A MockingBird

Pull me here, push me there. The way the wind blows through your hair. The same look I've always got. Rolling like tumbleweed through life. Who travels the paths of our lives before us? Tell me the name of the man who has beat the grass down which allows me to walk on my own feet. I am a boy, but I may not be your huckleberry.


People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness.
Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost.
~H. Jackson Browne

The wind whispers sweet songs, that only the dreamers can hear.
White clouds crawl across blue skies forever.
Ideas speak to my heart. Ideas, imagination.
Blown up fantasies of worlds that only a dreamer can see.
A hunger for truth. A desire for warmth. A dream...
A dream to feel the ideas becoming my reality.
A dream to sing with the wind.
A dream come true.
A dreamer.

Bulletproof

Favorite song of the summer so far. It's 80's delicious.
I've been burned by the sun; I've had acid thrown in my hand by my palm-reader; I've been picked last to play on the soccer team; but still I stand strong.
I'm listening to the bird sing songs right now and I could not be happier. Something about that voice...Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe I'm right, but I have faith.

neglected

Dear blog, you have been neglected. It is not because I no longer like you...I am simply writing in other places. I will return to you shortly.