Scrawl on the Wall 048

There's a small glass refracting light, and a rainbow cast down from sight. There is freedom and abstract notions of respect.

Just got to do what it takes to get through this. Just have to keep seeing the correct path to move on and advance.

So you think that you can see the complexity of the fabric of my mind? You look at the weave and see the patterns.

But the patterns have been placed by blind craftsmen, just trying to make enough blankets to pay the rent.

Who is the grand designer? Who is the ultimate architect?

Or is it all out of some old pattern book, found in a used bookstore some where in Phoenix?

There is consistency and chaos, living together, breathing, becoming.

And somewhere else, another craftsman works on a different blanket, smoking, coughing, putting things right, seeing the shape form, guiding the symmetry.

But I'm pretty sure my craftsman was just trying to avoid proper work, and get a few bucks so he could buy some more dope.

It's not bad.

You get used to that sort of thing.

The patterns, the chaos, the becoming and unbecoming.

My blanket is frayed. But I am still warm.

END