Took a closer look. Had a treehouse with no windows but for one door that took me to a limb near the clouds. Nobody I knew ever knew about my treehouse. I went back there for years. My secret spot. Out on a limb, alone. Perfect. Whenever I got near it, I would stop by. Up in the tree, just me. My place, my world.
Not long ago I introduced myself and invited up some strangers to share it. Some were silent, some were sullen, some were great company. A lava lamp party in a house in the sky with no electricity just dharma, and karma. Dharma is for killing karma. Bad Karma is bad, but all karma is worse. Get past the whole thing see? The system.
So we talked and chatted, got stuck in the tree, couldn't find the door, can't find sleep. Been here for years now, me and these trucky cats. The ladder truck's in the shop. The corn fields are put down for strip malls. Now our choices are endless. Take a closer look. We've unfolded the last of our origami collections and find all the flat pieces fitting together in the shape of a picture that sometimes repels.
Went to climb down. Ladder's gone. They gave my position at work to somebody new by now anyway I'm sure, so here I'll stay too comfortable to jump. To jump from my little world, my place. Crowded, but I can close my eyes. Then eye opened one I to the morning sky one night to find dark growling clouds about my limbs. Held flowers in my hand at tuck-in but now they are destroyed, petals everywhere, about my bed. The ladybugs are dead. When you break up with friends, do you snap it off, or let them down easy? Always surprised anyone cares either way, didn't till rejected anyway, why now?
So sensitive and quick to chase the sensitive. Senses, now that's Maya! Lila and Maya are supposed to be two different things. Tapping a shoulder from your backside. You turn and they say, "No, Over here!" Listening inside, free of senses, would have known the minute they came in the room. Caught their finger with yours on the first tap. But now you're tapped. Ran down to the end of the drag track and back pretending it's a lap, but it's no circle it's just the same old linear chute release, over and over. "But the speed! The rush! Have you forgotten!?"
No, not forgotten, I remember it all, that's the problem. Could fall asleep on a rollercoaster if I rode it all day, but now I'm waking amongst sleeping would be friends in this treehouse near unwanted dark clouds, and the sun (or the earth rather) has just made it to the point where long light has cast across my qwertyuiop keyboard fingers. Feel don't think. Think don't feel. The better pirates can wait till port and don't need a cabin boy. The best of em' just read in the cabin at the marina, and leave behind anyone who sleeps ashore at the time we cast off. Dockmaster once told me - "There are boat drivers and there are captains, once you know what you're doing you can see 'em comin' from way up the river, you'll know which is which. You'll have you're ropes ready."
I've threatened to jump ship from the treehouse. I should do it while they are all asleep. That way there will be no suspicion into my genuine intentions which are to escape, escape rather than to be seen as acting out a request for attendance. If only I could throw myself a rope. Once apon a time one came down out of the sky. I took hold and forgot my trip to the store, got high and spent my money at the top, thought I knew it all at that point, but didn't know a thing. When I came back to the treehouse of my skull the smoke cleared, and I could see that the only lesson I learned is that the previous lesson had nothing to teach. Now I'm looking at the ground. It gets dizzy. I get dizzy. The distance to me keeps changing. I scoot to the edge, nice and quiet, the sweaty inside of my hands hold the doorway, the tree is gone, only house. They are gone. I took too long. I'm alone here forever.
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