Alouette, gentille Alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai le bec,
Je te plumerai le bec,
Et le bec, et le bec,
Alouette, Alouette!

“All lakes die. ALL lakes die, eventually.”

The body of water you floated upon belly-up, in time, will give into the unnatural capillary action. After its remaining drops are soaked-up into the atmosphere, left behind will be mere remnants of its once capacity and great depth. 

Ah, is this not true for all lake-like things or experiences? Once, so grand! So dependent and ever-giving! And over time, any given amount, it depletes - gone. 

What kind of fuckery are we?

Limbo (which is the only word capable of describing the current state of my life) is hitting quite hard today. I have so, very much to give. Yet, not an outlet, in its singularity, avails itself. 

In the fall months, life will begin. I will be reborn and able to embark on my future. Truly, it could not come soon enough. Let the downpour of opportunity wash-out days such as today!

I have no interest in the present. Take me back to a past time or volt me into the future I am destined to carry-out.