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The sun comes up bright, the worlds light in the morning, and you wake from your perfect dreams to a perfect world. The sound of the radios buzzing does not bother you, the howling dog down the street has nothing on you, and the view of Venice beach is ideal. The world is its own worries and you are ideal, a fit in the perfect system. You sip the hot coffee and the burn on your lips is not the kind of pain that makes you scream. Isn’t this life? The music on the radio goes country, but it does not matter because it is the backdrop. Anything that slips between cracks is just scenery. And anyone who falls falls on the rocks between the cracks. Isn’t this life? Isn’t it not but the masks of bone and blood? No one can hurt you for it is the perfect world. And if your feet don’t slip? And if they do? Eat your bacon and drink your morning martini, think of the body beside you and live in the body your in. No one can hurt you for it is the perfect world. Drink your morning martini and if your feet don’t slip you’ll miss the cracks. And if you do slip… well… it is but another exit off the stage… and another chance to live.