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how do i work? like psychics over pineapple pizza and sunsets with strangers. sometimes i wish the answers would come, yet i kno if my mind was outsourced i would still be logically stuck and emotionally dismantled. so then i justify alone, but it's the judging that betrays us. the constant weighing, balancing, tallying. the folly is in the theory . . . the rudimentary abstract of either-or, this-that, for better or for worse, good-badd. such extremity of approach tho mighty with promise leaves hues of half steps and scores of variants as haphazard transients. good mutant children who are seen but not heard. the exalted precision of right/wrong dilates to oblivion as i sit with the xenoforms, halflings and lepers of my mind. while i revel in their diversity, most radiate intensely while offering little solace in direction. they stare as blankly back as i stare at them. what else could they do?? gorgeous and strange, prisoners of obscurity . . . i name them for their freedom and watch how fascinating life becomes. so buck up cuz you know its just as beautiful as you make it