no mans land in the post sea desert, tiny ants crawling around hungry for life, longing for pink sunsets and the fresh breeze of tingling evening energy. in the midst of it 3am wakings with a cloud of nervous hurrahs pounding in the stomach that no smoke in the world can relieve; tired, trembling, wide open eyes searching for the next spark to fire into dry leaves, little flames jumping around laughing at my weak body. limping in joy around a war zone of children armed with hammers, sparks across the ceiling and the best people around me to stumble into a pile with - melt away to the glow of the burning sun, smell of grilled flesh and quietly exploding heads; euphoria

what a strange feeling love is, and the comets rise and fall in front of a blood red moon