And then there are the days, every now and then, every day now, when I wonder.. where does life get its meaning? Maybe I need to look up for the answer, ignoring the thunder.. The hawks swerve through the current, waning and weaning The Red Robbins sing and chatter The chickadees cry, but they can't be heard Maybe they are chanting along, alone.. But with certainty the latter. Too much commotion, too much for sure, until sleep enthralls the world, throwing a black tarp over it all. I can move within the tarp, but only by plunging through my brain's intricate wiring. My mind is a jungle gym. I can climb, but I can't escape. Between perception and reality exists a fine line which prompts deciphering. My temples ache with every thinking moment, every moving moment, every moment, knowing the continuing cycle and circles of life may never come to a halt. My heart reverberates in my chest, stifling. But I must keep going. I can't let the wind wisp me into oblivion's coffin, with my body showing. I must think, but first I must react. We go along for the ride. And that's right, I am talking to her, well she's talking to me. The conversation is free flowing. “After I forget why, I think I might have rekindled my knowledge, but it's too late now,” I sigh. “Relax,” I think about telling myself, but there's no point. We are already enjoying ourselves. And then it's back to step one. I haven't even reached the first square yet- I don't know where it is. I am trying to find my way through the desert, a land I cannot take in. There's supposed to be light. Where's the light? What am I in this world? Who thinks what, and who cares but me. Searching fatigues me, and dreaming distorts my mind, because my subconscious journeys are more real than my stick and stem life. How can I appreciate everything I've been given when I don't understand it?