I Think I'M Free, Therefore I Am

“If you're a storyteller, find a good story and tell it.” --Howard Hawks There is a gulf between “It was not meant to be”, and “It was not to be”. Either way, predestination is implied, and I eschew that false idea. I think I'm free, therefore I am, because dreaming is better than hallucinating with a fever. The logic of it is a thing to ponder, with eyes looking inside the mind-- seeing double. It is tragic that my donkey doesn't carry-- So here I sit astride a drunken hologram, wasting away in this wasteland. The phantom of a broken heart hides behind a thin curtain. It is the time of winter wood, the opening and closing of gray files. All I wanted were some decent strawberries; the ones at stores have a long shelf life but no taste. What I just said is not literally true; I want more of everything. But most days are just routine, like cleaning the mirror after brushing my teeth, and putting on a fresh roll of toilet paper. Doesn't anyone wonder about life in the universe?