Freshly Paved

With my head planted firmly in the clouds. And my toes scurrying across a laminate covered concrete floor. I’m living in an Australian afternoon. While I know it’s four in the morning on my side of the world. Laying here chatting with a friend reminds me of the hours I spent talking strategies with team members from across the world. But that time has long passed and only my friends on social media can create the same experience. Connecting with a sense of optimism, like we did in the early 2010’s. But now it’s more like we all distrust each other, getting restricted, tariffed, and radicalized by the hate.
 
Loving just our own kind and judging others by skin and tongue. We make up Boogeymen as an excuse for our own bad habits. So I lay here at 4:14 am displayed from the corner of my phone. Time has no meaning here in this apartment/cell. I scatter words across the page like some poet laureate. Only to be found uneducated in the finer arts, just a vagabond with a pocket full of shiny words. My screen is limited to the images you choose to show me. So with our own set of rose colored glasses. We create our own realities.
 
Still I’m not impressed with what I see. Even with the fine laminate flooring and a pocket TV in my hand. I can create a movie screen, if I wish, or a Star Trek communicator. Even a microphone for my discord and fear. But now we’ve stepped out from behind the screen with all the hate we can muster. Preempting the world with all its beauty with actions of shock and awe. So what does the future bring to my sad aging eyes. All I can see is a can of worms we cannot close, with manicured lawns and a freshly paved parking lot.