Lying under the night sky, clutching the sleeping bag tightly to capture the body warmth generated between me and my companion's closeness I stare upward. We are the kids in the pouch of a kangaroo (our Earth), who, bouncing through her environment (the infinite universe), carries us lovingly along. We are learning to balance on a circus ball and coming to know more clearly day after day the vivid reality that many others may perceive to be insanity. * * * Learn to unfold. Paint your picture for me and I shall paint mine for you and we shall visit each other's world. Hopping discs of time and matter, let this time carry us into completion, so that we may become bored with our perfection and dissect ourselves again - just for the fun of it. We'll pretend to forget that we are God, you and I, and everything else, and that heaven is what we create for ourselves, just as is hell. * * * As children we dream of the perfect house, the perfect partner, the perfect job, the perfect life, the perfect heaven. Tossed into the world we find that which we do not want: pain, lacking, fear, regret, shit, remorse, "bad" things. Now we think we have failed, but it is actually the bricks of these discoveries of things not we believe do not fit into our heaven that allow us to build the walls of our perfection. Trust me, I'm the insane one with the vision. So rejoice in your tragedy for you will never escape the loop and the deeper you dive the higher you'll be flung up into the cold and bright air, out of the womb, into the sexual completion, into the trip, into the death and the present.