cant sleep and i really need to
whatever
tomorrow and the next day are going to hurt

worry about everything turning into a story
campfire and miller lite
train tracks and burning embers leaving holes
in your pants

a freakishly clear nite
for the sound of peepers
so it can travel farther
and the light can make
dew on the eyes of resting
the grass of nesting.

we'll make due with what is ours.
its easy to start a fire
and the trees will always grow
the lake will always wash the shore
and the stars will always let us
see a million years back
when our rocks were still molten
and our water still acid lakes
forming salt beds.

what is this for our time and stress
and words?
living to a manufactured hope.
we cant stand not having purpose
so we strive to create it.
thats evolution.

by we i mean you and i
as individuals.

fuck evolution
my goal
is to touch a tree every day and see a star every nite.
"the purpose of simplicity
removes the stress of complexity"
is my new theory

i hope it removes the knot in my stomach
but will no doubt make it worse.

sing a song tonite
make it loud and fast
and hope coffee isnt broken in the morning.

nite soldier.