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Wake up, move, routine day in and day out. I guess I must, practice makes perfect. Practice, practice, practice, practice living... Day in and day out. Slide into my bed like a timecard. Then a noise, a jingling set of keys, like lights on the side of a freeway and I can't help but slow down to look. Something different from the routine, an escape, it slows down the... Routine, practice, right back into it. Don't lose focus. The same begins to be second nature, numb, the same? It's hard to tell now. Am I insane if I think that doing the same thing every day will cause a different outcome? Or do I need to do something different to be better? Then that light again, the noise so unfamiliar yet gratifying. I tugs at me to see what is on the other side, perhaps it's the difference I'm looking for, the next step hidden in the outside of my routine path. My norm, my safe place. The escape. Perhaps that's all it is, an escape from the routine, the ice cream I shouldn...

What is the color blue made of? How do people find happiness in redundancy?  In habits? In ritual? How do I get my mind to react faster?  To respond to different experiences with good reflex? How do addictions work?  Are all addictions known or are some hidden in acceptance? How about lunch? Eating well, do we all have the time? What do I have to lose? What do I have of true value?  Emotional or monetary? How can I be funnier? What shoes go with everything? How can you fix a washer and dryer? How can I inspire others to walk outside of their four walled worlds? How can fish be happy in a tank? Do indoor pets understand what they are missing?  Good or bad? Why is caring without any prejudices so hard? What is the difference between domesticated and wild when the world started wild? Were the domesticated at one time wildly different? Why are some animals not friendly with humans?  What do they think of us? Do animals have a choice?  When my cat rejects t...

Life has a way to bring moments together We are not the beginning nor the end but an instrument Much like the flute or the drum We are part of a song that brings life And sometimes we listen Sometimes we play Sometimes it's too loud and sometimes we dance but with respect and understanding should we ever conduct ourselves Play on

Once upon a time there was a wolf that was born in a pack.  Yet the cub felt that something had lacked. The wolf had tried to be part of the group.  He tried and tried until he was pooped. He thought and pondered of what he wanted to be.  It was then that he noticed something he'd never seen. A group of sheep so friendly and kind.  It was something he thought he'd never find. He knew of the history and how scared they would be of his teeth.  So he found some cover and put on some wool fleece. He slowly walked to the sheep with caution and care.  Hoping the sheep wouldn't look under his wears. He said "How do you do my fellow sheep?  Isn't this a fine day?"  As the wolf feared of what the sheep might say. They looked at him and with a nod all agreed.  "This is a fine day, the finest we have seen!" The wolf sighed with relief and he had fit in.  He had made it this far but now his lessons would begin. He p...

Green, green is what I desire. They tell me that green is what I need to get. Green is where I feel good. Yet where I stand I see the brown, so close to me, so detailed the edges of decay. I stare at the fault of the grass on which I stomp on.  The grass that bares the weight of me everyday. As I lift myself on the strength of a tiny blade, I look over the fence and see another yard so green, so lush, so much better than the grass I that bares my weight. I spend my days looking at the other yard, I spend my days looking at what I don't have. Each day, every hour, longing for what I think is better for me. Each day, every hour neglecting the yard that I hold. Is the sight of the grass in the distance greener because of where I look, because I don't even tend to my lawn. As the yard that I hold, that I starve, that I don't water and neglect lends itself to decay. I begin to despise it, to judge why my dried up lawn doesn't look as green as the other y...

Dark and cold, the woods bring on a mysterious night. We huddled around the fire trying to keep warm. We joked at the night sky and sang in the dim light of the stars.  In the midst of wind howling through the trees, even the clouds choose not to come out tonight. Then it struck, for most of us we were fine but it only took one to start.  The panic and fear in their eyes. We all asked if they were ok but it was too late.  The fear settled in and we all started to build protection with purpose. We built barriers and weapons as best as we could from what they told us. More and more people began to give suggestions as to how to protect us but I couldn't help think what are we scared of? I didn't see it, did they? But we kept building.  We would sit around the fire and plan, prepare, talk of how we would be happy to destroy it, what it meant if it caught us. I sat and listened with no worries to add. I didn't see it, I wasn't sure what it was. The night went on,...