it's 7:15 in the morning. a brisk breeze is sweeping into my bedroom from the open basement window. i can hear a stolen shopping cart being raggedly rolled past in the alley. the wheels on asphalt and the metal clanging & reverberating with each bump until it stops at the next garbage bin. i can almost sense the whiteness of their knuckles as they grip and push through the uneven terrain of urban desolation. unable to see, i can't help but wonder who's madness is behind the cart & how long it's been with them - how much of their madness does that one cart contain? sometimes a cart to wake up with and put my madness into each morning sounds like a remedy. i'm trying to stay clam & listening helps me. there is so much life out there that i'm not living. or even observing. how much "-ness" there is and how tiny of a micro fraction i am. it's strange that no one has the same world, though we all coexist on one planet. even my own life is separated into varying existences and time loops. for instance, my dear stephanie just called me and is stuck in the thick of traffic. even her experience, while lived simultaneously next to mine, is vastly varying. she's calm and has the radio tuned into NPR. hearing her voice grounds me in the most immense permanent way. it's absolute ludicrous upon the sound of it how fast i can crumble to sadness of her vacant presence, even when she's only been gone half an hour. i've never known this. quite frankly, i'm bad at it. with each moment, we have wreathed our souls together, and are evermore eternally entwined. full circle. continuous and capturing. which we have sprinkled salt around and blessed with spells of binding and protection. though, i must soon too construct a separate one within our wreath around my own knowingness in order to cleanse. cognizance is a brutal fate. especially when rapt within a mutated state of delirium. but i'm awakening. and i will compote the waste to build an enriched fertile footing from which to grow.