Still

for i am a drifter,

an aimless wanderer, a rudderless boat,

a sculler who lost his oars

like a driftwood, wait for the river to take me places,

never aware whether am washed ashore or still floating,

like an oyster in a desert, wait for that odd rain drop

still one of my favorite lines of all time: and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness? - charles bukowski

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you

Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,

Must ask permission to know it and be known.

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,

I have made this place around you.

If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.

No... See more

I'm watching a concept of stability, and the only constant I have ever known dissolve in front of me. This place I felt was home feels like a hollowed out crust of a forgotten memory slowly crumbling around me. I'm watching the dust collect in corners and fruit tree cycles without harvest. There is a feeling of laughter that was once here constantl... See more