West.

Finding time to breathe has been hard lately. My mind constantly is drifting to that small lake high in the hills. I camped there alone next to the river. My tent touched the sand that slowly was dragged into the cold mountain water. The silence of the woods surrounding me not broken by machines or men.

I awoke to a glass lake everyday. Untouched by the land or man. I would slide a canoe into the icy water and paddle to the middle and watch the sun rise over the mountains. The golden light would warm my skin and fill me with the energy of a new day. 

But no longer do I awake to this peace. I don't feel the warm sun on my skin. I don't smell the trees and hear the world waking up. I awake to this so called higher standard of living. Where a human makes their way through life not by inspiration and originality. But by clinging to the social norm and acting as if this life we all live is natural. 

My heart longs for a world and a place that I can only temporarily have. A world where freedom takes on its literal meaning. Where a man is equal with what he lives among. Where no other creature judges you for who you truly are. Where no amount of money and fame can hide the true self. And I can no longer ignore this call of the mountain. This call of true living.   

I'm suffocating in this smog of what is now my life. 

And honestly I am just looking for a way to the air again. 

Love

I am in love with you. For every part of you. I will never stop. I do not think I could stop. My love is like a train right now and its moving to fast for me to even think of jumping off. I will never give up this love because I am scared of losing feelings again. Love is what differentiates me from the boring calculator in your backpack.

My love for you is consuming my thoughts, and for the first time I am ok with that. I feel the warmth of the sunlight once more, and the bitter bite of a cold day.

Winter and summer, Fall and Spring, Water and Ice, Fire and Steam. Before they were bland and dead. Now alive and full of color.
I can see the seasons and feel the change. I can smile at the rough and miserable days. I can smile and feel like life is really ok.

I am in love with you. And its out of control.

Being Human

I bleed red.

I think that alone is enough proof to prove I am a human.

                                     I dont dispute the fact that some of my habits are in fact robot like.

But I swear I really am a person.

My mother swears that I don't have a heart. But its been broken so I can confirm that I do.

I know I am a human. 

But how do I know you are to? 

Nothing really.

Alex Supertramp

He sang with a girl who lived at the slabs. He climbed a mountain with a old man. He canoed the Colorado river. He crossed the border. He made it to Alaska only to die in a abandoned bus. He did what his heart told him to do. He lived life in a original way. 

I bet he didn't think that bus would be his coffin. 

ENTER

I read a book that made me think about life. I cried through the entire book if that tells you my condition. 

I have been trying to post something for two hours but cant think of how to tell you how utterly unordinary I am, in a ordinary way. 

My life is a collection of failed attempts to make my own way. Live by my own code. And not follow the mold my fore fathers have made. 

The only rule I ever broke was a rule I made for the purpose of breaking. 

I spend to much time planning things I never would really do. 

I have a rock in my backyard that I stand on and pretend is the peak of some distant mountain that I summited.  

I am a green tree among a black charred forest. 

I have others that love me, yet I never have felt so alone. 

I am who I am. But how do I tell you about me, when I'm still trying to figure out myself.