Standing On The

Sometimes you have to ignore the facts.  Maybe you are standing on a poorly made floating deck on a manmade lake that smells of dead carp next to a colourless suburban cul-de-sac under skies that won't rain across from trees that won't bloom enduring a winter that just won't end.  Or maybe you are beginning a voyage on a rickety little raft you made from the debris of mankind pushed out into the green water of nowhere as the clouds compile their disdain.