I'm a run-on sentence or two.



its funny to think that;
none of this matters outside the box we sit.

past and beyond, the thoughts of existence and conspiracy.

I would believe it if you said, stand here the earth is falling downwards, this place goes up.

i'm thinking heaven.
i'm thinking DUH.

but then we're back to the fact that, in this box...
anything can be anything.

mind over matter in the sense that the words we speak move mountains.

I look out the window, and its only night time.
i look across the street towards the houses that stretch miles through mazes of roads and crazies.

but here we are sitting in a box, deciding whether its real or not.

but nothing matters beyond the limits we've pushed.
they only go so far, but none have crossed the line and lived to tell, for death was no turn back.

I'm glad you found comfort in your supreme father.
you know...the man upstairs.
i'm glad you found peace with rough edges called neighbors and in laws.
i'm glad the book you hold so dear, can answer all your questions much like the monthly fortune rolls i can buy at Safeway while waiting in line.

in line
in line
in line

i'm guessing its here to waste some time.
we know nothing more beyond our stay.
life here, and out there...its just a guessing game.

and to think, outside this box, there's a million more.
outside my mind there's a billion more.
and outside there's they've realized that there's something they are living for.

because we thought it up.
because we brought it up.
existence, and the free world.
existence, and the new world.
existence, and the third world.

we're stuck in the Sistine chapel praying for more existence.
praying for something even more real.
a sign.

but nothing answers life.

its still funny to think, my conversation with you
has been said.
its funny to think our mindsets pretend to coincide when really we're dimensions apart.

my understanding vs. your's

we're at war with ourselves, and the outside of this box.
there's no peace in survival of the fittest.
believing in science makes it seem solid.
believing in god makes it seem soft for a light little fall.

but what happens after you've died?
and the next morning you open your eyes, and you sit on a bed in a house you never knew.

part of a cycle.
part of this planet.
detached and floating-- your soul
here is your body.