(abeachoradesert)

There are eyes everywhere.

Looking constantly at tiny grains of sand. A beach teeming with life that lives unaware of the larger beasts that step and trod. Plodding along on dreams and hopes. Destroying everything we would love to hold close. Familys torn apart. Love crushed by social boundary and subconsious hatred. The kind we have all been bred with. Wether we know it or not its there. Whether we choose to bury it or lock it up. Our biases float like a man hanging from the gallows. A beauracratic monster that knows no love.
No compassion.
No understanding.

Just thinly veiled wanting and convenience.

Walking along a lonely stretch of beach under stars that once twinkled with a famillar childlike innocence. Dim observers frozen billions of miles away they store a history forgotten like yesterdays headlines. Icy and still under the terror of an ambiguous threat. Inaction trapped in city gridlock. Mute and unspeaking they no longer sing. Only the brave ones flicker to far gone to be heard. Transmutating into legend and conspiricy. There are ears everywhere. They listen in to the static hum. Millions upon millions of voices speaking at once. They have become numb and disparate, healed over with skin. Forgotten by an evolution of social brutality. Water sucked up by the wind and dumped back into a endlessly deep sea. Once rain but always ocean simply rearranged. Diluted by the electric hum of cellphones, computers and advertisments.
Television sets speaking in new modern tounges.
Even everlasting stone is everntually ground into meal.
A long winding beach. Bilions of grains of conflicted co-existance unaware of the scocopathic grace that hunts them among these lost dunes. Cost effective progress attained at any cost. Your or mine. Bought and sold with grey steely opaque regulation.
Progress, greeds bitch of an obtuse ex-lover.
Alone and a man walks listening to the simulated rush of waves on a concrete. A freeway bisecting farmers field. Homeless and down trodden with pockets bulging phallic with cash.
Crushed like granite and limestone to create sand.
These creatures walk on above us, amongst the endless systems of control that in the end truly control nothing. Chaos burgoning like some wild animal to strong to subdue.
To cunning to just not escape.
Here we are tiny specks washed away by disaster, cities, politics, syntax, fashion and human ambition. Flushed down a hungry drain by technology, lifespan and impatience. We that make up the beaches littered with shell casings and camera lenses, plastic wrappers and archaic legislations.
Blast craters and broken legacys.
The eternal tiny hypocrite searching for meaning in porno videos and empty bottles and baggies; in god and country, in love conflict and flawed reason.
We modern man whom chooses to look for solace everywhere but inside ourselves
Searching in and amongst the miniature wreckage of an old, good idea.
There are eyes everywhere. Staring all the time at themselves and telling us we aren't them. Tinys grains of sand on an ever expanding beach. Lonely cruel miles inhabited by preadators and prey dancing in a never ending sultry embrace.
A long alien beach teeming with life.
While you and I walk hand in hand unaware, dressed to the nines, opulent and ignorant in bliss.
All the while strolling on someone else's stolen beach.

Who's dreams are you walking on?