5 30 rings pots over gas flames still in a haze not walking dead but alive and i m fed still hungry for more cause before i wake again and again and again again and again and again i toss and i turn again and again and again again and again and again with something calling me maybe a conscience maybe that dream of something more well beyond the folklore that failed to be something real solid or still something real solid or still to ground me with instinct to feel before i think and think before i know to know know before i act act before i grow in control with fear i ll hold cutting me loose from old rules