Devolution, Back into our Caves

Hello all (or whoever, really), Hope you’re all ok. I’m ok, I think. At least I’m not one of those out there happy to drink the Kool-Aid that our latest Jim Jones reincarnation is telling us to. Can you believe it?

We’re killing off the planet and everything on it and our leader is telling us windmills cause cancer and Lysol is a great kind of gargle. Where is the proof of evolution going forward? That, and we’re back in our caves.

I’m charring driftwood and rubbing it on my walls, drawing animals I see walking free out in the streets.

It might be a kind of devolution, or deconstruction, and for me, it’s good. I appreciate what’s out there a bit more and not just the simple diversions but the life that is getting a short reprieve from our mess that we force upon them.

So true

These days of wine and roses(now burning in the California heatwave) I do no miss my job, the grinding wheel I have to drive to and the stress it involves. I Know, pressure makes diamonds, but it also makes you a bit on edge and at times, overly defensive of above mentioned grinding wheel?

A liberty mocha and a .38 Special.

so now at home, I get to see the California aquatic wildlife up close.

Some say that even with the dangers of mental harm during isolation, there is also the chance of finding you true selves, the ones we have buttoned up in society

So, in this gift of time, after you delved deep, who who are you now?

In the meanwhile, I leave you this:

It is my intention to forget. While there’s still time I’ll stand outside of this. While there’s still time I’ll resist your point of view. I’ll dance around the ring while there’s still time.

Nothing happens twice. raise a glass of wine and try to still time.

Gonna build this empty space while there’s still time. Gonna drag my cart piled high while there’s still time. Gonna build another bomb and hope the doctor comes while there’s still time.

Trails across the map, they’ll be dragging something back from the ashes and the stones. Save the bones for Henry Jones while thee’s still time.

To the splendor and the crimes. Nothing happens twice. Raise a glass of wine and try to still time.

Published by ivanonthekeys

I throw words together for stories, poems, and other things. When alone, I think. and abide. The Many-Minded Monster Morosely Minds his Meat.

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