We Are All Feeding From

We Are All Feeding From Each Other, All The Time, Every Day.

We're In An Era Where They've Sanitized Home Life In Movies To Such A Degree That There Is A Certain Home Life That Might Be True If You Have Two Perfect Parents, And A Nanny, And A Couple Babysitters, And Support, And Lots Of Money, And There's No Strain At Home, Or Whatever. But For Most People, There's Strain, You Know? There's A Lot Of Pressure, Things Can't Be Perfect, Parents Can't Be Perfect All The Time. There's A Divorce, There's Money Issues, Whatever. People Work, So You Don't Always Have These Vast Reserves Of Patience Every Time Your Kid Goes Crazy.

The Voice Of The Nickly Reflection Of The Moon Was Not As Deep As You Might Expect. It Was A Singer’s Voice, Though, A Tenor, One That Loved Itself Without Reservation. “i Feel Time Like You Dream. Your Dreams Are Jumbled. You Can’t Remember The Order Of Your Dreams, And When You Recall Them, The Memories Bend. Faces Change. It’s All In Puddles And Ripples. That’s What Time Is For Me.

My Parents Told Me They Were Going To Kill Me At Least A Thousand Times Growing Up. "i'm Gonna Kill You," And Then They'd Whack Me On The Side Of The Head Or Whatever. And "what's Wrong With You?" And "i'm Gonna Lock You Up," And "i'm Gonna Throw You Out The Window," And "i'm Gonna Kill You." You Know, All These Things That You Say In The Heat Of A Normal Chaotic Household.

God: I Own You Like I Own The Caves. The Ocean: Not A Chance. No Comparison. God: I Made You. I Could Tame You. The Ocean: At One Time, Maybe. But Not Now. God: I Will Come To You, Freeze You, Break You. The Ocean: I Will Spread Myself Like Wings. I Am A Billion Tiny Feathers. You Have No Idea What's Happened To Me.