Rant Shopping

Solitude seems to follow my soul. It creeps over my shoulder whispering sweet nothings. Telling tales of deserted islands and long walks in the center of the Sahara, as mirages fill my eyes with the breath of another homo sapien cruising a desolate isle of boxed foods and plastic wrapping, enclosing poison filled mulch some would call food. For a second, lost in a trance, I forget all. Fingers move slowly then quickly as ideas spark the central nervous system pouring out images from the depths of the abyss protected by skull bone. Although, another source of finger twitching can be a result of the meat sack guarded by ribs and muscle pumping life and love through this carcass. Both working simultaneously but in a sense not. Always in a game of tug-of-war when it comes to feeling and intelligence. Is it possible to meet in the middle? How can we expect another human being to meet us in the middle when our own metaphysics can’t seem to align within us?