WHO'S TIME IS IT ANYWAY + I am subject to the inertia of this world spinning off its stand. Questions about God, finding happiness, love, decidedly wrought with sadness, anger, fear. I cannot help what i see with my eyes, cannot help the past, cannot escape God's judgement. But must remember that it is not mine to judge, is not mine to give to those who do not want. I am out of answers for them that are weary. Must be able to close my eyes, turn my head, see another horizon, one where there is bacon on the hog, butter in the cow, syrup in the tree. Another green world where there is better weather, and not this grey cloud hovering, this burning sun. I am the question. This life is the answer. What can be asked but me. What can be the answer but this life. I am letting go finally, of u, of me, of distance, of closeness. I cant fix it, it must fix itself or not be broken at all, but just be. I remember that my favorite hat fits my head, not the other way round. I remember my fingers were dirty, not the other way around. I remember the rain falls on me, not the other way around. Getting my self together means tearing everything else apart, this dream i have made that is not real. I am broken hearted by this waking life, seeing the sadness in eyes. Seeing the commitment to sadness in the habits of men. Can we indeed be happy? Can we indeed find the way? Where is the gate i must walk through? Show it to me and i will pass through it, though it be locked and boarded up i will find a way, but though ive looked i have found only walls to keep me out. Walls to keep us all out. These are the things i see and they bring me sorrow, and if you lead me to water, i believe i would drown in it from thirst.