2 or 3 times a year.

Jesus the mexican boy, born on a truck on the fourth of july.

647am confusion and peace. parched and groggy...smiling and patient.
for everything and nothing all at the same time.
for a goodbye. for a hello.
and perhaps it is all just a bundle of paradoxes.
perhaps its not, and i just need to get to MY mid life crisis and move to pasadena already.
by then the beautiful girl will be in new hampshire. and i on my bike, listening to oh so emotional, folkly, and acoustic pick'n tunes
and i am happy.
and you will be someone i used to know. or know. or will know.
its all neither here nor there.
bc in Him is where i live and move and have my being.