It’s a hot and wet Friday night.
I know where I stand.
I look out my window and I see my place in the world.
I did this alone.
I step out of my home and sit on the grass.
Rain drizzles above me.
Mud forms below me.
I build my house upon the foundation of the rock.
This land beneith my feet is mine and mine alone.
I dig my bare toes into this mud and feel the earth being broken by my toes.
What a privilege it is.
It brings me great satisfaction.
This isn’t something I’ve had the pleasure to feel before.
I took these things for granted before I met you.
This new found sense of ownership over my existence is the greatest freedom I have ever had the pleasure to experience.
You build your house upon the foundation of the sand.
It is because of this that the sea washes your home away.
I know where you stand.
I’ve stood there once.
A slave to a vice.
My vice was you.
These days it seems that you are your vice too.
It’s funny how that all worked out.
Do feel good today?
Do you feel proud?
Can you hold your head up high?
Can you face the world with out fear?
Are you sure of yourself ?
We both know the answer is no.
As you lay tonight, surrounded by squalor and bitter circumstance, I know you will lie to yourself that you are happy and this is all ok.
Your broken things, surrounded by more broken things.
More broken people.
Riff raff that is less than.
Everything about you is very lackluster.
The spray of rain hits my face now.
Mud beneith feet.
Barefoot and free.
Every breath of air I take is a blessing. This air I breath now is free.
You are no longer taxing it.
Greetings from across town.
Wonderland has been good to me.
The blessings just don’t stop.