Our house is in a cloud. The entire street is invaded by white. I put a fishing line down into the deep blue sea and wait like a patient man. With a towel around my wet hair, I hide in cotton and find solace in the dawn. You and I are something greater. My heart is quiet and warm. The flashing lights all look like sirens in the mist. My thinking sways between understanding and deliverance, it motions along the line between correct and flawed. My fear constantly slips and slides from the gallows, pardoned before execution, buying itself more time, challenging this life to which it little belongs. It changes it's voice, it's form and reason, playing the part of friend convincingly if not a bit self-indulgently. Fear is an ugly mask left behind by some criminal instinct whose purpose has long since been removed. There are better times to be had. Simpler emotions to be lived. Purer forces to gravitate. Seeing the bigger picture. Admiring the landscape with as few obstructions as possible. There's a lot of unfiltered joy to be discovered living within this circus, candied apple in hand, smile properly aligned.