Your Silly Bearded Thoughts

What's in that beard of yours? Your thoughts come from there, don't they. I know the truth, that's where you get all your great ideas...from those nasty chin hairs. Well, you're not fooling anyone pal, I know your secret...you can't run from my inquisitive gaze. Stop, don't fight this. Take this Mach 9 and set your thoughts free...free to fall gently to the floor. Free to be swept up by a hand that actually cares. A hand that will delicately nudge them onto their folicular destiny. To send them forth into the world. Oh, how they long to be free, your hairy thoughts. Won't you? Won't you care? Do the right thing...shave your thinking....unbridle them from their tangles mess. Do so, then breath...just breath. Cough. Then breath.

Welcome to the Jungle.

What is this? Am I in a club? A society? Is this associated with the Knights of Columbus? Nay to all of your guessing attempts. Nay. A room...full of scholars, poets, children, bears...whatever the heart dares to dream, THAT is where you are. Do you dream? When your eyes shut in the darkest hour, do you see pictures of starry skies stretched on the canvases of the mind? That, my friend, is where you dwell. If you've ever ridden backwards on the doves of time, snatched at the apples of old men gone by, or stood in the hollows of wizarding fawns...then you've been to this place before. Welcome. Welcome dreamers...welcome friends...welcome flocks of seagulls...welcome to the day. Wipe your feet but please don't remove your shoes...and have a seat...on that barrell...in the corner...the one with the non-descript writing that says 'barrel'...that's sitting in the pool of mud...watch out for the mud...just sit down...ok...good...sit...sit down...thank you. Hi.