even sitting here, among my nothing life, I do not mean to say I hate life (I really do love life), but how can I comprehend anything, we have all these non-consequential things, houses, a deck, which I am sitting upon now, listening to the world, the world we dominate at this time, the beautiful sound of night birds singing themselves to sleep, the distant sound of a train, why does the distant sound of a train, mixed with my visible breath on a cold eve, why does that distant cry of a train feel almost… sacred, dated, historical, and comforting, seeing my breath appear and evaporate into the night air like smoke, seeing the green creep, again, back as spring claws back, as it always does… sitting in a chair here, the sky spitting a bit, but not awful downpours, the temp just enough to sit out on the border of my land, soon to be not my land, in the scheme of things, we are squatters honestly, I try my best to foster nature but how much can I do in my short life? not much. honestly, not much, the world will spin and forget about me and you honestly. This makes me think more and more that my job here is to be happy, never at the expense of others, but the rest? yeah, I can get involved… but what is the point? This makes me tired, I just want to live my life and be happy… but that is something that can not happen with human beings. I am actively searching for the balance of being happy, being barely here in times sake, and leaving a better place for people after me… even if our run is so short, and it is, I want to have hope… and that is what I want to instill in people, hope.