PORTRAIT OF: AN IRON GALAXY.

To think you have all of the answers is a slight towards the entire existence; if existence can be seen as a thing, a noun. An entity. If existence includes time, distance, and every physical being as well as each individual thought ever commited to private voices in hot ears, then it could never fit in a pocket or the palm of your hand. That isn't to say you shouldn't try, always try, always pull the whole goddamn world towards you, inside of you, and lick it to see if it tastes of salt like they said it would.

In the end it is all much larger than you. It is the stress of the pack mule, the elephant army tramping up slim canyons, that makes your shoulders tight and jaw clench when you sleep. This is the effect of constant work. The use of muscle for doing the impossible. To be human is to not be designed for eternal living and the breathing of fire. To be human is to accept the desire for eternal life and becoming the impossibilities of the world and to use this desire to acheive anything you can. This is the routine of the common failures. The money loss of poor investment, the limbs removed after useless war, because at one point it was believed that the end of each of these events would lead to you as The Giant. The King of Forceful Thought.

This could be you. Human to the bone.

PORTRAIT OF: THE LOVE IS FOR HIS DEATH.

He's old and he's dead and that is why I like him. His voice lacked anything of interest to me and I never felt a spark with his music. But still, here he is. A man. Born, loved, dead. There is more there but right now not much else matters beyond that.

The respect isn't for his music, which is of little consequence, it was the man and his ability to create and be loved that fills me. That is enough to say, "His blood is out there, driven into the earth. His fire and size still exists and I will find it and grow into a human statue."

FOR IT REALLY IS THE SEDAMENT THAT GETS YOU THAT FEELING, HIGH AND SICK, LOST AND CRASHING THROUGH GLASS.

"Keep going. Men just watch."

"Why is that?"

"We're not really here. We have no hearts."

"Then what is jealousy?"

"A mistake."

"It requires a heart doesn't it?"

"Some would say, yes."

"You don't agree?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"What is it you want? What is it you want me to do? To be?"

"It's too late."

"For what?"

"For me to be the first, to be special. It's gone and given away."

"So what now?"

"I'll just sit here, and watch you breath."

"Why don't you breath with me, together."

"My vanity can't let that happen. I need the undivided attention. Past, present, and future."

"I can't change the past."

"Just the future."

"You can have that."

"That's all I want from you."

"That's all I have to give."

"Everything else has been given away already."

"Yes. Yes it has."

"But there is a new life to create. A new hour that breeds a different day."

"Of course. I am on your side."

IF YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES, DON'T BUT FOR A SECOND, OR YOU MIGHT MISS THE CHANCE TO TAKE HOLD OF THE WHEEL AND CARVE YOUR OWN NAME IN ITS CENTER.

When the world crumbles, and it will, take it upon yourself to cover your screams. They will not help. Wash your hands of the dust of the dead cities and set about building something new. Something yours.

Pay no mind to the shouts of others, they have their own lives to live and need to find their own true path. Life is on constant repeat, and as easy as it is to fall off, it is to get back on and make it yours. To own the world in which you live.

THE BODY IS BIGGER WHEN ATTACHED TO THE MIND.

When something is created to mimic the love one has for the Lord, you in turn are patting yourself on the back. A slap of Triumphant Ego, a medicine to fight the weariness of constant sad days.

"We lift rock - the rock that we break from the mountains of earth. No one said it could be done, we didn't really ask, to turn shifting pebbles into a solid design of flat spirals into the heavens, but yeah. We did it. Fucking 'A."

- the Willing

WHO'TH BORN THE ELEVATOR? NONE OF THE TRANSIENT MINDED, BUT FULLBLOWN NATIONS OF BRAIN'D SOPHISTICATES.

Mistakes are the routine of everyday life. Trip and fall. Lose a phone number. Miss the alarm and sleep in until 3PM. These are forgiven by the ever present authority of the Glowering Lord In The Sky.

Who was it that held the world aloft? Ah, yes. Atlas. Poor man had it all wrong. What you are supposed to do is stand above the globe and lift with your legs, craddling the hemispheres within your arms. Meaning, never let the world on your back or else you will never get it off. Let it know who is boss and as soon as it becomes uncomfortable and lacks purpose, it will be dropped back into the black of lifeless space.

BABIES BORN OF IRON.

There is not only a chance, but the inevitable truth that if the world's water supply were to deplete or become completely unusable, a crack in the Earth's surface will form and out from it will surge a new ocean of pure water from the planet's heart.

The only way to live is by believing in the impossible.

THERE IS NO MISTAKE. THIS IS HAPPENING.

In most major areas of land there sits the idea of "Big Brother Is Watching." This idea rests on the back of all citizens, legs around fat ribcages like a straddling infant. We're supposed to be scared. To not want this constant watch of privacy. To question the authority that pins us down with its eye. We're supposed to want to tear it down.

We're supposed to care.

I hope Big Brother is watching. In fact, I hope to become Big Brother. The idea that Big Brother is attempting to do harm is etched in the head of those that are afraid to move beyond a certain comfort zone of low expectations and limp fisted mediocrity. All things big and small are man made, Earth made. The car is is just pieces of scrap found in rock. The man that can create a viable machine from dirt and stone is nothing to mocked. That man is made of fire and an iron will. Unforgiving and unrelenting. Unwilling to succomb to vague truth.

Perhaps Big Brother is watching in order to say, "Do better. Do something with your life."