A little piece written by Greenlake in Seattle WA. The Lake There’s nothing in this lake that can hurt you. The waves are gentle for a reason. The reflection pure. The ducks are defenseless and gay floating atop its languid ripples. The sun shares its warmth and admires its own gaze. Echoes of children’s laughter, wheels of skateboard, screech from new sneakers as basketballs kiss the pavement, fills the gaps of the changing season. Maybe because I am chubby and tired from starving myself to lose weight and delirious from lack of energy and low prefrontal activity that I notice all these things dancing around like little worldly trinkets from a new land. I’m not even that chubby, I look pretty decent naked, depending on whose viewing. The 30th year of life is coming up the driveway of my cosmic residence. Things haven’t turned out the way I though they would. I watched more cartoons than I planned. Read less books. Cooked more eggs. Learned different skills. Wrote less songs. Made more money. Ate more sushi. Wore less turtlenecks. But I am pretty sure that I understand the lake in a way I never have. I can resonate now with its quiet wisdom. Be calm and things with float into your life. Reflect beauty and soak up its richness. Your depth is a mystery. Animals are good. Eventually everything drifts away. And one way or another we will all return back to lake.