Troubled Coast Chasing Windmills
Be done, unshackle feet from worldly cells. Take heart, don’t buy their drugs or take their pills. This world in form is like a king, whose sovereignty reins over us and our calamities. And if he’d come down from his thrown he’d say, that you should look and act a certain way. He’d say “Get rich, go f..ck, go smoke and drink,” and then I’d clinch my fists and scream. “I feel like I am chasing windmills, and fighting giants that I cannot see. Dancing with the ghosts of relatives and dining with a pack of wolves.”
