lance.clark

This is where we begin; our conscience steers us for when the edifice draws near, beckoning the desire to fulfill what can not be fulfilled. Where will it take us?

Drawing darkness toward the light echoes a small need to understand our environment, giving twice the effort to bend and swirl in parallel.

At what point do we draw the line? At what point do we recognize that our environment wants us, needs us, to build a foundation to provide insulation from the fragments of regret and manifestations of our dying egos.

Be humble, be courageous, be understanding; failing to provide a means of self-regulation faults not from the way we are brought up, but by from the way we see the patterns changing in front of our eyes: days what once started round, now start sharp; nights that once started symmetrically, now start obliquely.

In a quiet shade of pontious cries, and raging hierarchies of bellowing wagons, we see that bridges once shiny and new - crisp, with a sheen of integrity! - are now disenchanted remnants of what could only ever have been an exhibition of prowess and aptness.

Having realized our greatest flaw, we now want to make amends both with a reality that is held close to our faces, and a reality that exists as a tingle of curiosity. The longer the reality held to our faces remain, the more the increase in the sensation, our desire, to know our true reality, becomes.