Collaboration and commiseration
come from the strangest
places.

Not every moment has to be
philosophy and poetry (or does it?).

Should climb that mountain
and learn about rare blood.

My fears are what they
are because they
represent an end in
themselves.

There is some kind
of odd comfort in
the fact  that we are all
ultimately alone. Everyone
makes their choices
based on that ditch
at the end of road.

Were I made of equal
sides I would divide
myself for the
appetite of all.
You are always
threatening to consume
me anyway.