"eye"

I have two eyes. The mirror assures me even though I can only see one at a time.
With million dollar words and twenty cent shoes I’ve got a method in my mind that I forgot how to use. I’ve got a problem with the volume of the venomous snakes and sit and walk and talk with harsh reality of fate but I don’t care and I can’t wait for the words to stop so I just keep going on and on with the click of the clock. My mind is on the cusp of where I am and once was but I have this good feeling of warmth and sincerity, and I have this strong epiphany running through my blood which flows thick and deep and wet with love.

As I say I what do you hear? Because I don’t speak of myself when I do see, the I is not the mind and the I is not an eye and the I is not me. It’s simply this thing that can see past the plastic and tv, it’s the air in your hair and the moisture down there. It’s calibrated on the tape of the intelligence marking off the ones who speak and live and are of at least some relevance. It’s not a person or people it calmly floats in the wind and it’s not what we scream out but what lives silently within. It’s the constant ramble that burns in the sun and the steady rumble in the underground of numb. It’s a seditious smile seated across the table of corporations and the ragged local gliding while you watch on vacation. It’s the one with the flow and the ones with the style, the eye sees for miles and the I knows no time. The I pulls back like a rubber band on the tip of the thumb and flings across the sky till it’s charred by the sun. It’s the words in your mind that never line up until you let it lose and cough it all up. It swims like a dolphin and runs like a cheetah and floats like the clouds with the tranquility of a reader. It’s fat as a rat and wise like a cat and barks like a dog and fights with a bat. So after these words you’ve read now you know that the I was not me it was only going to where I want to be and what I want to feel and what I want to trust and what I want to live and where I come from. It is deeply rooted in endowed conditioning, and can’t be further from plausible petitioning. The I is the freedom which we all seek and the eye is the spirit that comes from the chest, it is right now and always has been as I sit with these words and stare at the screen and write with veracity and come down to reality and realize that this thing of the wind is tied up within.