Those dark nights filled with the dynamic hallucinations of fantasy gone wild, with insane creations sprouted from a lost child. Pictures take over the walls.. I sit watching, learning slowly how to change the shapes into entire galaxies. Its strange what a dreamer see's an ocean of possibilities in the chaos storm multiplexed universes spread endless in the tree of time.. Caged I may be with the walls and bars of my social/mental prison but my reality has no boundaries. Vision: Wheat field dancing with the wind and soft hands running over the grain. A white dress floats over moist dark soil Blue ribbon tied in a childs fashion... Channel changed: Train station cave filled with bonfire trash cans. An old bum sings in drunken slurs while blood pours from the gunshots covering his stomach. Cable Vision: The void tunnel, tv screen tornado; a storm of dimensions waiting to be explored.