(There was only one song that fit today’s entry.  The chorus says it all.  Eschua la.  Day 223…)

So much on my mind, that I can’t recline.  Blasting holes in the night ’til she bled sunshine…

What do you do
When inhaling is worse than exhaling?
The air you take in
Is freshly produced toxin
Less and less oxygen
Makes heads light
And unable to bear life

We breathe
To ingest clean air
And release pollution
I breathe in the Universe
And release imperfect words onto an imperfect world
In hope someone sees
We’re related.

We give our breaths to the Universe
We owe to it our lives
But does it owe us to turn our carbon dioxide
Into something to help infantile planted roots to grow?
Is stardust a better fertilizer?
Is the stench we’re smelling our own manure?

So many things to think about
I stare at stars and hope the ones that twinkle are communicating their assistance in Morse Code.
Sometimes, it feels overbearing
And all I can do
Is breathe