This one is whatever regurgitated out of me, just expressing thoughts and feelings, not polished or tinkered with, just as it is…

I remember walking down the street and thinking I had it made. Hot shit, back straight as a steel beam, forehead pointed ahead because I didn't give a fuck. Life has a mischievous way of reminding you, that if your feet are not planted flat on the ground, the finality, and consequence of death will slap you in the face with a cold rod. A misplaced brick, centuries old, dislodged from a wall and falls straight on your head and there you go. infinite darkness. How can I possibly be more clear than that? and yet you doubt what i tell you, show you. If I was ever so frightened with possibility, it had to be in another time, another place far away, so distant the sun’s warmth would collapse before it arrived. and yet you go with so much weight on your shoulders, a trip to the moon could do you a favor, and me I guess. It would be nice, to release and let go, take a small leap and have something carry you away. Its the trip up that would worry me, too much speed, fire and possible death for me. I can just imagine the explosion, something so loud bright and hot it would melt my molecules away. not even dust.

And really, who cares, every single one of us will be forgotten in a few generations, so many great people completely forgotten, their love, their pain and anguish, the ever present smiles and frowns. People who cared so much it hurt their soul and they caved in. So you let go and chase whatever is haunting you and realize it haunts no more because it never was. So I love you, what can I say, it just happened.

– A. Garcia