shells shells sea shells by the seashore

the dreams of the nation were of sea shells and falling staircases. I had a dream recently where the the steps were falling away. Below the drop was about 100 feet onto the concrete. A bottle of whiskey was in my hand, it fell through my fingers shattering below into the dark night abyss. I crashed a car into a tree that wasn't mine. the shells of humanity were swaying in the breeze. I look at the sun and I see the day pass by, the seasons a standstill of the ever playing song on repeat. I want to stand on the cliff and peer down and not be afraid. I want to feel the tingle of life sensation in the breeze of life. The sudden nature of this feeling grips me in it's warm gentle hand. I want to see your face, your eyes, and the quiet solitude that it brings. Earth was here first, then dinosaurs which I almost mispelled. The quiet quotient of dreaming in the near color has brought memories into my mind like rolling clouds whispering sweet secrets about the keys of life and how we would transmit them. If there ever was a case to go to the ocean and hear the crashing waves this is it. Not like the near documentary of the purposeful life in which we lead. Lets go over there and look. Let's go over there and peer. Let's uncover our eyes and open our arms to the stranger stumbling through the night. you're awesome. you're awesome too we said. I want to explain, but it's oh so complicated in this brain of mine. Cancel the remix cancel the story. this was the loudest of dreams.