A white path
To a sacred place
For Peace
You'll find it there
Just wait
Just wait
Just hope for
Keep waiting
It's there
A white path
A scared space
What you've been waiting for
But you have to wait more

here

It collapse itself inside me, upon my request
But how I sit and wait for them
And suddenly I shout inside
"Do you remember the contested parking ticket?!"
There was a white gazebo in that small town
There were flowers that littered beside of the sidewalk
and hope...
And there was you.
There was you!
There was you!
There was you, were you holding my hand?
No, but you were talking to me
Talking to me about the contested parking ticket
So passively!
So passively!
Like people do who are related
As the world looks elsewhere
And maybe you were wearing your dark/light blue sweater vest
So often you wore
As I now wear the same clothes the same way
Regardless of the worlds view of "That's been worn this week already"
Okie dokie
And maybe you weren't
But I keep going back to the white gazebo
And this memory collapses inside me
Upon my request.
You won, you know, by just talking to the judge
With that look that said "Look fucker"
That same look that gets me in and out of trouble

Yeah, something like that

How to survive your thirties:

Step 1: Constantly remind yourself of your age, which affects every aspect of your life, no matter what anybody says.
Step 2: Get use to saying "Yeah. Okay. Totally, that's fine. No problem. No problem at all.
Step 3: Get a real job already.
Step 4: Try to get real friends. Try.
Step 5: Stop weeping over the mistakes you made in your twenties.
Step 6: Really, really, decide what is most important to you and just focus on that.
Step 7: Stop worrying, already, what the fuck everyone else thinks of anything to do with you.
Step 8: Just do it.

He

His eyes picked and pulled,
Grappled with curiosity.
He pried upon pages of books,
without a word touching my ears.