Assumptions

    I might want to ask Hank Green why the western horizon on the Pacific Ocean from Cardiff by the Sea appears subtly curvy when nothing obscures the view of it, but I'm afraid of social media and of being right. Sugar ant pathways look like recently tear stained cheeks. Construction or electrical symbols painted on the tarmac look like a tank icon that any Battle Staffer might be jealous of and I refuse to look up what it means in this way. The coolest bugs don't live here, which I lament, but am glad for when I will see them again. 

    I've already walked this way many times and each of them were new. The only things that we truly know are those we observe and perspective will fuck with understanding all day, every day. Sometimes, I see all of the animals doing weird ass things that probably aren't all that too weird to them. A dude maybe didn't respond because he's more disciplined than I am when writing a poem in my head. I did write this from the point of a stylus while I forged ahead, though. I only digitally erased once. 

    I once drew up a collage of all the unit crests from those I participated with. It was supposed to be a tattoo. I'm glad that I couldn't afford it when I had the idea and now it lives just inside of me. The Army calls them DUIs, which probably is more appropriate than bureaucracy will admit.

    These children for tomorrow sound like today's politicians: whiny and irrelevant to passers-by. I just watched a bee lookin' thing, more bumble than honey or meat, dive into a gopher or snake or squirrel hole in the ground, all nonchalant like, seemingly indifferent while I paused in awe, for I haven't had seen such a sight before. These days, that's rare. I thought that that dude was holding a leash but it was just his phone. I really want to walk again down the trail, high with my friend, because I can't successfully text these memories.

    Once you grow up enough to properly realize that mothers are hot(ter), too, the pool expands and yesterday was wrong. That kid just called that guy beside him  'Grandpa.' He appears to be near my age. "I like your hat." I didn't, but had a minimum of two sentences in repose should he answer (he didn't) in that way.

    I would call people who mostly, understandably, wouldn't answer, to tell a story or, maybe, say some words, but now I write them down. It's better this way, though I'm always unsure. I'm remembering now why I've always liked this track. It's awesome how I remember it.

    I may have never seen such emasculation as a dude pushing a stroller uphill beside his other with only a pup being carried inside. I realize that every time I see a Prius, I think of a nursery rhyme. They've already become endangered and I'll see a weird cybertruck each Tuesday. I wonder if anyone sees me shaking my head, briefly.