ramble on...

(should i post this? it might come across as negative... but something tells me to post it here...)

i see the stars through pollution. it moves in large, rectangular shapes across the night sky. street lights indicate the boundaries; the shapes shift and drift as unearthly light dictates where my eyes will travel. where am i? the framed window rests ajar, no screen, the high altitude produces a chill but no bugs. the glass is old, wavy, time is pulling it towards the earth as it is us all. the frame itself consits of more rust than wood, more chipping paint than hinges. the glass extends to a certain point before stopping, leaving a gapping hole to the outside - a thick, dark night full of sounds that dazzle and disturb. there seems to be a constant hum here, as if the world itself were alive, breathing... thinking. what does she (earth) think when i tread upon her? there is an engine running - the hum of gears, or a motor... but organic -- does this make sense? what does sense mean? how can i measure something like that here, in this realm so forgein yet known? dogs talk, they sound fierce, territorial. are they underfed like so many here - attempting to exist in a society that feeds upon weakness? are they striving to be noticed like the natives? hoping for a role that places them in the spotlight opposed to pale skinned actors selling products from road-side billboards; large, rectangular images that appear and disappear from plumes of exhaust spit out by ancient buses that insist "dios es mi guia!" (god is my guide!)