FLAMINGOS

 

Maybe this is just a dream, right?

Like, maybe I’m just gonna wake up and open myself into believing that everything that could have gone wrong, would have gone wrong. And this is just some little way my brain has to cope.

Or no, maybe this is just a little puddle. We’re living in a giant puddle, and all my problems are this big rusty turquoise boot that decided to splash. M

Maybe a child’s?

Oh well, maybe all our problems are just a little empty. Right? Maybe our problems is this little flamingo in a field of penguins. Doesn’t make sense? Yeah I know, I’m just sorta talking out of my ass. Maybe I just like the way that sounds. Kinda poetic huh?

Or maybe not.

Flamingo. A pretty word isn’t it?

I found myself thinking about kites today. Again, nothing significant but maybe our problems are kites. And I’m suppose to be this child, just trying to hold on to them, or something like that. And then we have to just let go of these kites, problems, and just let them go into the wind, and fly away.

Again, not good.

Maybe our problems aren’t flamingos with penguins or kites in the wind. Our problems are just problems. Maybe I’m not dreaming. I just wish I was dreaming.

Yeah, I like that. I like that a lot.

Let’s go with that.

Ok, lets start the rant…

 

now….