Standing beneath the tree of abundance
i drank the booze of time.
The roots through me, the branches were collateral.
I went to the past only to see it exist in the realisation of the presence.
The journey to nothing has so many evenings of freeway dystopia,
drugged glare,
endless desire to be free from all the things that destroy mystery in an other way redundancy.
Humanity has always grown their taste of life through its failures,
the roots took me to a place of shaky emergence…
The square rooms with cream walls have more trees inside…
more than a country night,
more than a wilderness that was civilized long before the tremor of uncertainty came.

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Photograph: Todd Hido.