Once again, I have returned to pour my soul . I’ve been caught in the rosebush, letting misguided romance lead into an overall resistance against existence - the tale as old as time . The problems never stop being real, all of our lusts and desires, and I come to realize that an unconscious part of myself still seeks undue distraction from the insanity inside me . Drugs will no longer cradle these faustian thoughts that drive my creativity, and the cup runneth over . But my struggle is my service . And to my delight, I came to discover that I was only lost when I was afraid of being lost . The void is beckoning me back into her arms . Making and breaking love in perfect rhythm, an awful but penetrating truth about my inner sanctum . It breaks my heart to be such a wanderer, but where the moon tugs these heart-strings, I must follow .

I’m enjoying the confusion again . Embracing the dark like an old friend . Still unsure of my cosmic duty, but it unfolds more of its lights everyday . I remember driving with my psychedelic indian toward the coast in a vision, and she asked me if art was my love affair . Instantly, I lost control of the car but we did not panic - we laughed . Once again, I’m releasing the wheel and letting this runaway car have its way . Have no fear . Lovers never lose .