- connected -

Sitting with the world in his lap.
He marvels at the places he has been,
the artists he has seen, and all this before breakfast.
What amazing times we live in he thinks to himself.
8 Feb 2011  
After breakfast, before workout n work

                - Go Between -
"Hey" 
He woke to her voice the voice he loved. Opening his eyes seeing the smile he loved.
"Hey yourself"
Wrapping his arms around her as she lay upon his chest. Gently kissing tasting her beautiful lips.
She groaned in pleasure his warmth so close so real.
Turning over she did not wake to the man she loved.
Opening her eyes not seeing the smile she loved.
"Hey yourself" 
He wasn't the first to leave it was likely he'd be the last.
Another gone off on a limb in her life.  
Such heartbreak existing as a mere,
Go Between.

 3rd Feb 2011 - Camelia

  'humanity'        

Rolling through the data before his eyes, his 4D contacts making it all the more real. 
He couldn't help but feel compassion, for they were a strong people inventive, creative and progressive.
Yet they were also a greedy, vain, secretive and untrustworthy.
 At the height of their technical evolution it was their 'souls' or the desecration of their bodies and minds that was their ruin.
Not as the wide spread 'hype' of their time suggested at 'the desecration of the Earth' and all it's inhabitants, would bring their demise.
No it was their minds that lost the battle and found them incompetent in the war of self that ensued. 
It seemed their was no 'humanity' all beings segregated to race, age, wealth, sex, and even looks. 
They warred for 7 generations, the richer with sophistication and subtlety, the poor viciously without finesse. 
Few were left and those were the thinkers. 
The only ones capable of not being swallowed by the terror that consumed 'humanity'.
The only ones able to see what their hive mind had produced and not get sucked into the madness.
These were his ancestors, the first ones of the New World.
Closing the page he looked out at the beautiful garden his people had nurtured, primped.

His smile perfect in the reflection of the pond.
He bent down touching the water he watched his face morph, distort, and contort.
Standing he wondered at this feeling of discomfort that had come over him.
Shrugging it off he continued on running a hand over his hair and face.
7