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Ive got this gut feeling,she resides down 35 from my old folks home.Ive got this sarcastic backbone...in the mountains,somewhat of a clone,but a little more intense then bull riding a dinosaur.Ive got this card up my sleeve,and she and I would fool the minons who be,slaving away now...as she seems to be. I had my bumble bee...but thats years ago now..my mind at the present lay four hours south west at a birthday party for this girl I met a month ago...writing a book about driving across country writing a book...and I finally just want to talk to someone. This isnt lust im feeling in any sense...nor is it love because ive been there before..no this is a cosmic kick in the teeth of some great repeating cycle of diminensonal interloop that I just introduced into playing with or puting concept into two sentences ago...im having these dreams and their all lives ive lived before...maybe its from being raised by television since birth,but im alarmed...and so are others and their armed..ive got some clothes,documents and ideas with me...I dont even say a word about it to her...it feels like i have butterflies in my stomach being torn apart in a black hole..i cant explain simple theroies ive been toying with for months...Im confused to if shes my savior or my eden of this garden full of pomegranates...four letter words are scarce in her presence...i cant test the waters of full on speech yet...i mutter regrets outloud and intensely quiets...its as awkward as it sounds and seems it would be...shes the mary magnoland to my skanky jesus...look and act and its all sweet and precious till were sharing chairs eating with each other stairing at bear and lou on a monday afternoon...I liked it...anyway I neglect to say other things (like drinking a beer before lunchtime (even worse we had breakfast for lunch so it seemed earlier then 2))...my times off anyway...ive been sailing across country an a manifest destiny type of mission living my american dream...things i need for my head...and once words can accuratley define the glory ive seen threw these eyes...then maybe ill have the balls to talk her into making an indian headress with I...us playing shaman and cheif...living in a teepee smoking dmt...or nothing at all...because generally her talks calm me more than the roll of smoke has ever done...I laugh harder too...three quarters of a decade and another bowl threw...and I have the audacity to talk about this...this...its been what it is for centuries now...shilverys not dead...you just have to bring em out,BRING EM OUT!...what woman dosent secretly to have a reminder that some one cares...what man dosent...im not on a panty raid...because thats what we want to think that all there is...is more...but friends are there when you need them the most...and if you destroy every notch on that bed post...which whore will comfort you more...which one do you look to the most..number 4...4...which woman will you have to hold...the one who has your child, or the one who you call your old ball and chain,the one who wants you home...i call for my queen of the road...my power animal is a lion...i wait for a lioness to approach...and if she did....after all these generatoins of a metaphysical and spiritual changes maybe I have found that ship mate...i ll do my best to give her the galaxy...and a bathtub that she can smoke blunts in with me...gold feet...a window on a mountain over looking the sea...i kinda understand what leah was saying new years eve...or one of those pesky days of the week...that dont even exsist in my reality