Hi internet.
I really love this thing we're doing. It makes me happy everyday to wake up and find it all completely new. Dirty Mirrors say not much has changed, but you and me... we see....we see that nothing.
nothing
changing into something
to be anything.

We're not the same. We got greasy while we slept, on the same pillows we've used in the past. All woven in that same old pattern. That same tight encasement patterned in shiny new braces glistening as she steps onto the high dive, at least fifteen feet overhead.  Yelling to her friends in the water her sounds become lost in the symphony of joy and experince present at the city pool. That beautiful song reverberating from the first splash of twilight into the dark. Adding melody her friends scream a little as she moves through the air. Each sounding different yet similar enough to come together in unison, cutting through the hum of being pronounced over the churn of gravity's familiar though astoundingly unique relationship with water.  To which she become a part. Integrated
through emotion
reacting to experience

Surface expanding
the lungs
once they know air
without thought
without action

being is a choice
even deeper
than I breathe.

being choices
deeper
I breathe

be choose
deeper
breathe

be chosen

Breathe
Deep.

.......................................
One Love to Dream All
All Dream to One Love

A show for sore eyes.

    We’re all here, everyone made it to the show. It was certainly harder for some than others. Many people forget who they are along the way, or perhaps it happens before they leave. And who knows where we all come from! Luckily we are all here so it doesn’t matter. Though a lot of us do really worry about it, at least in the beginning. They get to the front of one of the lines, I don’t know how many lines there are, a lot is all I can see, and they give their ticket to the door man and ask something like “Could you tell me who bought this ticket? Is there a receipt?” The door man, seeming like he’s used to dealing with this kind of situation will put his hand on the patrons back saying, “You bought the ticket man. Look around, see that crowd? You bought all the tickets man! See you inside.” Often dumbfounded some of the confused will try to get out another question, something like “well how did i get here?” or “where is this?” and of course the classic “who am I?” and as the door man faces the opposite way taking the ticket from the next person in his line they receive the hearty answer “good one, man” accompanied by a short spurt of joyous laughter. I’m sure most of them forget all about their worries once they get inside. They have every time before. We all have.
   

A Thawing Satellite(or feeling something similar)

lower the walls as you
hold in a gasp that comes
in a moan becoming security
opens worlds to feeling
feeling like water
resisting diver
only lying on the surface
~
life aligns endless sines
relay everything about something
and something about everything
saying what speeds up
to slow down
breathing. breath. breathing.
light glistens wet
Luminous, only showing
through the surface
~
In a labyrinth of mirrors they live, with nothing and no one. Often scaring themselves as they sneak around corners, thinking there will be someone waiting to frighten them, rob them, or kill them. They forget what they have. They forget what they are.  They find solace in their reflections when scared. They see the steadiness in similarity and reach out to the mirrors. To simulacrum they confess delight, mistrust, sin, love, and disgust with each new syllable sounding more like themselves:
reflected on the surface
~
Under an ocean we live, with nothing and no one. Our souls radiate infinite light. Boundless light. We experience nothing but purest joy; so much that we don’t know what it feels like. We dance, questioning nothing. Every movement a seed of expansion and growth eventually leading back to our selfs. Fractal thoughts, though not thought, come up above:
our dreams bubble to the surface.
~
I love the feeling of knowing
knowing not from where it comes
like rain. It holds me, raises me up
to see all that I know
to watch it melt in the sun
to leave only the feeling
of a life
that I know
~

Going out of its mind

Mind how you find
the meaning in
the eye Mind
of the words binding
something similar
in the ears Mind
you bring the awe and
the ugh right out of me
sometimes
i don’t mind though
it’s just the differences.
In my mind you’re perfect
though you’re always perfect
Mind but sometimes
you know it’s perfect.
I know you know.
I’ve seen you Mind
slack jawed losing
your mind in the sounds
and symbols of some
wonderful mind.

A Nervous reflection on a lonely sidestreet

I often notice it while walking down the street
when the sun is coming back to earth
before laying her down for sleep. The light
laying across sidewalks and gardens yawning
drearily a palpable gold into space. In chorus
waves of birds obscure clouds of color
sending their song to mingle into the expanding
emphatic light. And as sound and light merge
into one infinite point, when expanding
becomes the expanse of an open horizon. For a
quick instant I can see it. All laid out before me, 
a mirror of thought on synaptic symmetry
a nervous system interwoven in rays. Above the
flow of life the expanse on my horizon fades
bringing feet to where they had been standing
on solid ground I walk forward holding still
the rhythm of the rays lingering sound.

In The Art of The Moment.

In all that time, the flashlight had never stopped shining.

It’s easier to feel alone when you know there is no real alone. Like when taking a shower in a hotel room and you move in time with, but don’t notice, the rhythm of neighborly love.

We’ve tried our best to keep it here, hold it down-pat. Like any hoe-down, those who live on the outskirts get too drunk to keep going. It’s never long before there’s only a few canes leaned against the wall and velcro orthopedics scuffing the floor. But he’ll be there, in the corner, with that shiny smile in his eye.

The glare off the mirrors can be the worst, before the light refracts and it is all white. I just want to go to sleep.
Where is something more boring?

And he’ll tell you just what you wanted to hear, but never knew that you could. You will assume that he must be talking to someone else. Someone behind you. It is a big party.

Broken hips, every night, for i-don’t-even-know-how-long, we’ll keep trying. Nothing says we ain’t gettin’ it right.

I still don’t know what all these colors are, I seem to see them all the time. I guess they don’t really bother me, but i want them away. Not here. I want that boring again that i can’t really remember. I know it was good.

Pulling the beam of light left to hold on another couple for a moment. Make them feel the heat of the moment. Look up then kiss, this is special.

People are funny.

She didn’t seem to really like my story about the triple rainbow. She told me my life is too mundane for her to associate with me any longer. I told her this doesn’t mean anything.

It’s always a bitch to find the batteries. Every time the flashlight drops it’s like they instantly flee, as far from their dark plastic containment as possible.

The man leaves a picture of himself for someone else to find.

They probably just want to experience potential energy’s art. You want credit,
I understand.