Television age.
Read something, I dare you.
Pick that brain for potential
To be right without an instant index.
I guarantee you'll do well;
We retain much more then we think.

You know, all the tools to open up,
To be recognized as real as you are
Still exist, but it's
Persona grata. You gotta give yourself
To someone else. Not just a glow;
Not just a happening elsewhere.
No wonder people are so fucking lost.

Ok, this is a collection of thoughts,
Taken as they fall from me.
Maybe the point is that we denigrate
The idea more and more to be real
And straightforward with one another.
Maybe that's just my fight.
Perhaps I'm a boat without harbor.

You see white sand;
I see another place I shouldn't dock.