You don't live less you're ready to die.

I saw a woman running in full sprint away from her car on the interstate today. I saw a log truck on fire as I passed it by. I killed a million bugs today. We pass the world, or maybe the world passes us. I watched my cigarette's ashes sprinkle to the ground and thought about the ashes of burned out buildings in WWII falling to the ground like snowflakes, no two the same, blanketing the land in white and gray.

I see new buildings being built on the horizon, and I've been told that every 7 miles the earth curves, so I expect every 7 miles there are new buildings. Raindrops must be huge to ants, they must be watery asteroids to their sand civilizations.

....



There are these two men that live in my parent's hometown. If you are from there, you might know who I'm talking about. They have long beards and are skinny. They usually ride bikes around and live out on this country road in an old green house. It has no power lines going to it, no telephone wire sticking out its side. They have a fleet of worn out bikes turned upside down in the driveway and seem to have no jobs, no fixed income, no contribution to modern society, and I wonder so much about them. I think their lives are fascinating. To live without all the things we consider needs (when they are really wants), to just be, is very interesting. I wish I had more courage to park at their house one day and just talk to them. Somewhere inside me, I believe they'd greet me with the business end of a double barrel sawed off shotgun, but for the most part I think they would be quiet. I think that's how I would greet them at my door, sadly enough.

Food for thought, thusfar all that I've said.

And now for some dessert:



Who is the modern cowboy? Other than, of course, the ranchhand or actual cowboy? Maybe truckers, but maybe they are just the modern day sea farer? I don't know. I know that Birmingham has been good to me so far. I used to hate hate hate Alabama. Everything about it. From the rednecks (which are plenty) to the psuedo cover up preps (who are really rednecks). We really all are emporers, aren't we? All dressed up in what we believe is the best, when we are really nude. We all pretend to be something we are not, to an extent. I'm just ready for my wardrobe to go up in flames.

But I digress... I've really come to like Alabama, appreciate your heritage, I guess, is what some would call it. And while I dream and long for a land of long white clouds, I am content where I'm at now, the land of mosquitos and racism, the place of the New South. We will mold and shape this place, bury our hatchets and forget where we buried them.



Let's burn down tomorrow.