All Of Our Actions Have In Their

All Through My Life I Never Did Believe In Human Measurement. Numbers, Time, Inches, Feet. All Are Just Ploys For Cutting Nature Down To Size. I Know The Grand Scheme Of The World Is Beyond Our Brains To Fathom, So I Don't Try, Just Let It In.

Death Is The Least Civilized Rite Of Passage.

Society Is Like This Card Game Here, Cousin. We Got Dealt Our Hand Before We Were Even Born, And As We Grow We Have To Play As Best As We Can.

Love Won't Be Tampered With, Love Won't Go Away. Push It To One Side And It Creeps To The Other. Throw It In The Garbage And It Springs Up Clean. Try To Root It Out And It Only Flourishes. Love Is A Weed, A Dandelion That You Poison From Your Heart. The Taproots Wait. The Seeds Blow Off, Ticklish, Into A Part Of The Yard You Didn't Spray. And One Day, Though You Worked, Though You Prodded Out Each Spiky Leaf, You Lift Your Eyes And Dozens Of Fat Golden Faces Bob In The Grass.

You Know, Some People Fall Right Through The Hole In Their Lives. Its Invisible, But They Come To It After Time, Never Knowing Where.