Exactly $34,987.67 is how far away I am from total happiness. I don’t care what the neighbors might think when I come home with a new relentlessly lonely path. Along with the primary target of breaking away from being set free I will not deny the exhilaration of absolute freedom. I remember when this path seemed so far away. When a flood of unsettling reactions became my actions. When rebellion was only a marker in my spiritual journey that would only prove to be a sort of self-actualization. I need a name to call this journey.

How about “Irreverence of Mr. Cut”. I can arrange to slap some water balloons for three hours and emancipate myself from the truth of my existence. I cannot understand why I resist jumping into a leather tramper lifestyle and burn all my money on uncustomary paraphrases of faith and fame and fairness.

It won’t be long before I shut off and say, “Go Ahead, and Divorce that Breath of Air.” When I ran into my verse yesterday the disservice of love was misunderstood. I shall jump into the waters of life and return to the seas gifts, which are harsh blows and the occasional chance to feel strong. Measure yourself in the most ancient of conditions. Return to the mess that false hope bulldozed into concrete foundations and slabs. Make a proper hat and shield the sun from your eyes. Remind me of the distortion of faith and the twisted branches into which it grows. Rise up and turn mistakes into gold.