canvas for a flat boy

empty. She’s one canvas I will never fill. For the life of me, I have no repose in thinking of it. Ah. Or. What was the Spanish, I already lost it. Macromedia in a profound sense, lost. Given to the lullaby of big dreams, low scores. You had a hard time there, did you. It was measured by your impetus to comprehend the experience. Little boy, lost. He’s got a hand in it. It takes a cynical breath to pony up the last one.

you, just a child. Either connected, universally, in harm or fakeness of healthy. The human condition is unhealthy. But do ya lil that? I’ll have it with pesticides, on purpose. Vacant for an hour. Rotted and screaming “Freddy’s back!!!” Pieces of this piece less peace less SCREaming mentality. You were at work. The boys say, “as you were”. White trash, tame not brash. Ostracized for your humility. OCD brings back life. Common sense can’t. Fear for a new sleepless bargain. Republican dualist. Outsider’s law. What goes on in your head?

Injured rat full of content. Disposal. Shake of the tv, Me! It isn’t real what those nameless peace authors are saying, not educating. “take care of it Now. Deface the ego. Watch your thoughts. No mind comes after being aware of thought. Meditate for peace”. Yet the sweet iteration of crime comes when love, on acid is self real. Hinders success when bondage writes theocracy, so scorned to public transformation. To be medicated is to perceive feeling in a completely foreign angle. For instance, when she breathes, it is Not remembered.

Viscosity of fragrance is political. Engine of the empire. We’re drinking coffee, no one learns. That was a good night. A vast circle of quantum tantra, concluding that figments of careers depend solely on the the projector.

Punctuation insolence.

Cucamonga Have you nots

Cruelty. Like all things alike in their prestige, floats to no greater hights, aligned by no things in remark for thrusting thrusts. Chew on the vernacular, by no means spectacular. Just a joy among few friends that have listened to the lather.

a vehicle for assumption, persuaded by the robotic kiss and whim. So smithy in their respect for the hour, complex sugar briskets and sharp tongue. Narrated by a voluminous sputter, not unlike that of Christ’s utterance.

So save us from this due holocaust, and welcome the romance of chemists in their oddity. So save us from due holocaust and welcome the music that has marked our ears for so…..long.

Mucus and Velcro, the parlance of rhyme. The mirror casts the same image that bustles with time.

passerbys just look toward a future with no rhyme. Fatal narcissists that cradle the death grip. Cruelty.

have you no sense of care? Cruelty, your arms are very bare. Caustic call, save them from the torment.

and do anything but protect lives from evil distraction.

perhaps the module was less willful

Festive, retinal sarcasm. Beaten between the glance of odd stuff. The public vacancy upon a shower of red rings and deposits of cold upbringings. The breeze of this bliss throws the whole thing to its timely descent.

unless for merchants, out there the sky would be gray, cold. Thank heavens for Zwan. An afternoon was spent in mindful awareness. Good thing to think. Mind overflowing with intangible characters, many whom resemble priceless scaffolding, a night of intent and vaccination. The ice cream parlor, the boy, the pretention in the right mood. You can excise the hunting philosophy, can’t tame the dead.

Dead is dead.

night by an ocean side

and if you were intending to do so, would you fit prospect into relativity or this and that into finite terms? The meetings of the subject, you. A gloss of the marker which is to be seen as a quirk of such a philanthropy. No higher order exists than the meeting of selves.

Says the mouse

just is to sit. And however it was a credence of intentional spares, the mind changed and so the afternoon remained unquestionable. The mind retained and unbuttoned. This would be not a time for the estuary of macabre collectivism. Just to sit, take note of the hemispheres. It’s flowing, but not too fast.

Fast is the murmur of the aquarium. The seer of shaded scars. The fast click of every run down ultimatum. Allegiance to the recovered mortality. The thick pairing of documents. I will do my writing like this once, and then I would recover traditional as it may be. But as the mechanism of alteration goes, and sure that its much simpler a method of explanation for human, walking leaf, animal or mineral, I shall just Sit with feelings conveyed here.

the discourse of ideas is far better left to the throws of psychic jams and loving places; parallels where loving hearts share the dynamic experience some have told us to forget. And in. And out. A subtle rewriting of synaptic journey.

And see, I’ve already played on an unconventional order. Now, further from recognizable. Looming in the tangents of what may be healthy, the iteration of disposable essence conditions a good heart. We may be seeing far from our infant selves, coaxed to understand something which is less moderate than our contextual cosmos can relate to.  From the messiah side of things, correlations between this world and others is the ability to clarify strengths and weaknesses so that uniform predestinations are solemn in the hour glass of time.

Shapes of entanglement bring no unity.

The Yoga of Things

things in the abstract are multi dimensional, welcome to be manipulated and know nothing of themselves. One walks through yoga like they do not take authority as af mature fenestration. The use of maturity in an art form decimates expected outcomes as long as the priority is on the loud speaker of self expression. Fundamental congruencies in individuation mask a true vaccination.

so how does art and yoga then take on liberation? In a society that believes conclusively in something which is a fantasy of a dream of nothing which is terminally called the psychosis dream….thats where you get what is not got. The yoga this creates then is a collective consciousness in the midst of a creative fantasy of determined madness that has embraced eternity.

Realization of an overwhelming wrongdoing

Punch, bang, neglect this temple. I still think it was the right thing to do. Now you’re coming undone because you’ve seen the dimension of dementia. Lament over how brutal you’ve been. Breakdown and terror. Lean over the counter, press upon the fertility. Question and prepare. Life’s got a meaning, collective self is non dual and transient.

Start up the furnace. We’re going to test our awareness. Life bubbles and cute toys. A perception full of screaming cellars. Autonomy in regards to varicose expansiveness. Learn to love on your feet.

and love is not like that of breathlessness. Ancient, old, barren opportunities for men and women like you. Peculiar that it is adorned with nomads. Parlance of silence.