i'm driving up a highway i have driven up and down many times, i am listening to my future, my body is moving one way, my mind another, i'm almost with you, i'm almost there but i'm uncertain, there are forces within you that i cannot confront yet there is a copmpulsion now to speak my truth, to be real with you, to address the chasm that has engulfed you and the turn the fall out into something good. but your a butterfly, leaping from one flowering idea to another, one seemingless innocent idea to another, i wonder what happens to all those ideas that get left behind, i have a deep soul and somewhere inside it knows for it was left behind a long time ago. i filled my heart with smoke but now it is clear and sees, thinks, feels and i trust it more than anything else.
we walk into a shop with a nice lounge, the assistant steals my line, and my role, mmm, i'm somewhat disappointed by that but it's okay, i'm no longer attached to those things, we move towards somewhere else, a stranmge place filled with strange people, suburban nightmare, zombie middle classes and husbands and wives that live in some weird place i can't enter. you're showing me homes near water, nice ones and this is where i start to feel the future, it's perfect but we have done this before, made plans, attempted something, you were younger, but i lived with you, and something went horrifically wrong. i can't know what that is, it's lost to me, but i know it's there, and then you spoke about wanting to drink again and i felt that long lost memory stir, and for the first time in 10 years i started to feel unsafe with you again.
then you mentioned how much you hate clutter and it's true i have a lot of books, music gear and stuff, yes i admit mission control is cluttered beyond hope but my interior landscape is not, i'm clear and almost translucently uncluttered. whereas you are quite cluttered on your insides. so i'm calculating the probabilities that we cancel each other out on that score.