"I saw myself on the ground, and it didn't look like me. That's not the way I sleep."

I did yell at the camera. I felt the wind change its strength.

On the Balcony, Trying to Sustain this Great Energy Between Us

Energy. Passionate. Inspiring energy. Energy connecting to the source. Energy for a man turning on the light, seeing the numbers on the phone to call another that needs to hear his voice. Energy for a woman turning on the light, after her daughter’s nightmare, then keeping the light on to watch her sleep. Energy for the one writing every other scenario to demonstrate we are not alone.

Energy like windmills and solar panels. To store it all up and spread it out. You want to be a good person for the world, support the kind of energy that gives energy. It’s been heard now: “clean energy, clean energy.” And there isn’t such a thing.

But there is passionate energy, inspiring energy. And we must be on this side of the invention.

Now I’m trying to do my job, Energy. Do something for someone who needs it.

A little prayer. To every god and peasant.

It’s a choice one makes. And not such a difficult one after it’s simplified to the most exact common denominator. Here or Not.

If you’re Here, fold out your arms with me. Mechanics, evangelists, salesmen, flight attendants, infants, teenagers, middle aged, retirees, parents, singers, commanders, mail clerks, secretaries, law enforcement agents, strippers, drug dealers, drug users, angels, construction workers, companions, now that I know where to start to send this, where are the others? Listen up. Look out. Eight octaves. Nine dimensions.