"And in that moment, I swear we were infinite."

This summer,

I've seen God in the eyes of the children, and hope in their eyelids, so i know that when they sleep, they still dream.

I've had those moments. Where you're surrounded by your best friends, the separate parts of your soul, and there's nothing but lights. And you know that no matter what, in that moment you were not sad, or lonely, or afraid, and it was still. It was whole.

I've slept in the arms of someone, I've breathed in the uncertainty. Knowing that this could end in the morning, and nothing would be the same. But I slept anyway...and you kissed me on the forehead, while the song sang of the woods.

I've stood on top of the world, and held my tongue. And wished i hadn't.

I've lost my home, searched the hemispheres and compass ends-rushed the sands of time. But still, she's gone, and along with me, that sense of wholesome still.

I've bought into the capitalism that enslaves us all, and I've acted as its executor.

I've heard the beautiful be denounced, and the innocent defiled. I've heard them all say we're ugly, and stupid, and never enough.

I've heard that there's something wrong with us.

I've been told that I have to grow up. And I have realized I don't want to.

I've cried, and I've laughed. I've lost touch with my friends, and I've cut my hair.

I've changed myself, and I've been changed. And I want the change back.

"All the vegetation in the settled world is stirring

I'm blurring into sun-burnt and heartbroken worrying

about how the day took such a long time to die

when it was reeking of women I once had on my side

but now that I've found another smell to believe in

I'm buzzing like hell just to hope I can breathe it

and resurrect the simplistic calm in some eyes

that are trying to find you or

bury your nightmind

and it will take

time.

Oh, your tongue and the twilight marina

when so young and brave and still dreaming

getting to know you lash by dark lash

the rooms where you sleep in

the floors where you crash

and gas-stations are pleasantly blowing

thunder rolls for dresses you're wearing

on a body so unknowing

of what that blowing’s for our preparing

and patience is never affording

when prettiness and sweetness are pouring

out from you and

onto me and

dampness of sweat is the sweetest recording

and you can lay with your head on my body

the worlds of the night and disease try to rob me

all the vegetation in the settled world is stirring

but stillness and calmness are all that I'm hearing now

and it will take

time.

But time is for hearts that don't know what they're eating

and nerves that don't spend every night-chance retreating." -Frontier Ruckus: Nerves of the Nightmind.