be a time capsule

my nights are ricocheting between tremendous fits. waking, sleeping, bothered. you should feel the difference between calm and madness. the spectrum's wide and webbed. travelling happens at the speed of light. but our eyes aren't to blame. they're innocent bystanders to the triggers and mechanisms of our lower brains and higher minds. haircuts. nursery rhymes. desk jobs. the time you were lost at the mall. it all contributes to a furthering sense of tangling in the briar patch of trivial experience and flawed perception. i knew a girl who made her men go crazy. i knew a girl who lived alone above an abandoned gas station. i knew a girl who rode her horse around the orange groves of the san fernando valley. the days melt into splendid gasps of orange and the birds that that bird used to chase with her arms out on the sand, they fly overhead. the sails cut daggers on the horizon, and i'm jogging on the sand and i know it's the end. i know that watching this sunset, as it leaves one last pink slice and aches into the night, it's our end. i have no idea the consequences of beginning but it's a welcome notion and it loses itself in an errant text message or nostalgic bout and it dims and brightens and it's the invigorating quality to the sunrise.