Jungle Gym

Do you remember those days when we had sand between our toes? Those moments where our fingers were practically Elmer's glue? Those seconds that passed where we wondered with our big eyes how that sun warmed us from so far away and regardless how big we drew it we never felt it's warmth. Minutes on how we felt beyond God standing on top of that jungle gym viewing a ground below us that seemed endless and yet took little time to pass through when we were free...

...Free from those oppressors that used those rulers and desks to teach us how some guy in 1492 sailed that ocean blue. Hours would pass where we would feel so empty from how insignificant our lives were, since we couldn't experience how all those kids with those gold star and 64 count crayons seemed to cast a spell on those around them to see the humor in their jokes and hear how pure their intentions were. Remember how we stood upon those desk and took a stand just like that caterpillar in that nearby tree outside the classroom, embraced the unknown world beyond its cocoon!

 But somehow somewhere those with the gold stars and 64 count crayons saw through our words and tasted our thoughts and cut off our hair like Delilah did to Sampson and we felt week to our knees. They did it because they believed they were the paramedics, the firemen, the SWAT team that purified this world which is so enclosed yet so vast of the weirdness, the vulgar unscathed creativity we called home. It is time we break out that welcome mat, and dry up that moat so they can see what we have breathed.

 

Karl greatly enjoys reality television because it truly puts things into perspective. He's been out of the country once, it changed him.