Icon in the field

Its a fitting Siberia, close to home. Where the emperor lies with a needle of truth in his hand. Male or female? She’s chosen to think…..that it may decide the conquest of her desire here or plant a new schematic as precious as the moon.
Heaven is full of liars, I’ve been there before. They all shoot drugs and perish on contact. Their hearts are lonely. Yet I’m with them, trying to make things different. It can’t be done. I stare into the toxic effect of the drug, repeating I don’t love you. Then, I love the room.
Cosmic bliss. More people were right than was I. My dark macabre fantasy is here. I have to step outside the room. This poetry is dead.
Orange obstacles prevent me from going into filth. I never want that part of my life back.

They’re all sound asleep. The procession goes on. Wings that I ate digest in my stomach breathing through me reminding me that I can fly away any time. But the milk of angst rides heavy on a punk rock dream. In his scolding, he shifts the message. Irrationality of clown laughter makes it hard to feel.
Finally she appears in front of me, guiding the vehicle of perception. All along: It’s the majestic reality of twin encounters, the subject of our true reality.

To imagine for a minute that this had to happen to make experience happy and holy.
Whether dead or alive, the experience unfolds as, once again, a meeting of minds. With this realization, I am elated. I have been a part of a science fiction schematic where the windows don’t close and music blares from a mystic’s heavy upper body.
Fingers lie at my chest. I’m burning. Contemplation calms me. Abstract history reveals an incomprehensible fact that even I will never learn in this lifetime. As sure as the sting of combat, the murmur of experience mother decides to cave and sink teeth into our morning afterlife.

I’m satisfied, the appearance of normative subjects acts as a child, fare and even. Opaque majesty of complicated human behavior, seek me to live in truth, let not the horrors of society bring me to a witless level. Understand my symbolism that represents unity and kindness. Treat us kindly. Forgive our harsh libation. Keep the universe wonderful and sublime. And may organic livelihood commence tolerable predominance as long as there is an ear to listen.

Oh, cosmic I- make no moment unkind. Be well, yourself and keep looking with your eyes into the future.


music review

Music celebrates universalism in many ways. The idea and the creation, the performer and the listener. I am going to do an interpretation of music and decide for myself if I enjoy creating the style.
I’ll start off with

Deftones – Saturday Night Wrist.
This album has many layering parts that fit a disasterous mode. Screaming, it seems like a singer with many bad days printed on an aural notation. Very lifelike.

Pennywise – Unknown Road
Going the unknown road is often the way you find a lot of amazement.

The Smashing Pumpkins – Zeitgiest

This album pretty much kicks everything away.

Journalism for the sacred world

At the edge, a seamless window feeling dark because of a girl’s loss. People stare but do not realize she’s offending the operator. And without news of darkness, no one can tell this feminine turmoil. The bit of over cast to the inter cosmic consumer theorium begins where the light of calculated being comes at the first of Orion’s pass. Slowly stepping off the balcony, the widowers have sight to see the lampshade when it is figured. We look and vaguely see the effort of crime victims who steer the direction of advancement and fear. Who does this head belong to? Even though I have tried to answer the deepest questions in life, my resonance with the prism of nil-neuronal self feels the most comfortable. It’s almost as if I’ve just begun to focus on the sensations of the effigy that I found while working on a detail in the artwork.
Perhaps the reason is just to contain the passage of recognition.
Perhaps it’s all seen through the eyes of a passer.
The interior vacancy is the calm of knowing I can get there. I am getting there. I am working real hard. My friendships are stable, my achievements keep moving, I’m going by. This is at least the point where monuments become seen as the friendship between self and truth. The obstacles like behavioral darkness and fixed concentration reveal the open spaces of communication in the inner levies of function.
At the most, one deal of bad omen is just enough to break apart the shovel of working to make it worse. The approach seen to forgive a mental instrument for it’s breaching is the conditioning of the love of order and pragmatism in order that the heart will not crumble.
The two things in modern make up that allow for reasoning to follow are the truthfully free and the truthfully freeing.
The truthfully free is trueness to self. It is the relationship between you and your love. Your love can go anywhere it wants and you can share that and do wonderful things and that’s freeing. Truth is realizing that it will never be you who gets to feel free. Freedom ended a long time ago. It’s up to you to be you and express it all. Once the obstacle is solved, the thing is not so free. It takes getting back to that and staring off for awhile to notice just how fresh it was when it first started.

Truthfully freeing aspects share the commonality of bias and hypocrisy and wound the blanket of wellbeing that we need as living students of the earth. The make up of a rehearsed inclination leads one to dissolve the source of their strength (they didn’t even know it existed). I sit here, man sits. I’m shattered at the profound hate everywhere. The disease that doesn’t sink in until it hits. The main reason why suffering is a part of this place is because the individual does not allow the publication of his work to float laterally over the part of humanity that is free. Every good thing that gets negated is a logic to being thrown off the grid, saved for later and used in a more present-day order and that hurts things.
The trueness that is You is so unique and amazing that if I were to show you [through some kind of cleanse and refresh attempt) the ways of your surface-being (which dwells is lies, etc.), the change may create an artistic rediscovery of the human form.

Yet, if I were to capture our moments together, the easiness would dissolve onto dense, corrective temperature, making the love between us wither. You sold out, I moved on. There are no annexations in this progressive situation to be horrified of. Yet, there is an easy way to remember what dancing feels like when it’s made possible.

Perhaps when the planetary system and our bodies sing in this pool, we will know ourselves and truthfully speak, truthfully be, truthfully exist, truthfully express, truthfully disseminate, truthfully receive, truthfully accept, truthfully love. And a lot of love will be seen in an honest sky light. That sky light might be the president, or you or the mayor. We’ll see that whatever we do to feel good about ourselves, the dissemination of that yoga is affected in the cosmos. We see authors of love everywhere. This vehicle of our love does not use up the given substance apropos function.

The yoga itself is what makes it so interesting.

Here’s To Aup.

Aup. You’re gonna make it. I should warn you though, your test levels have been short of conclusive effects to produce any found lucidity. You were born a vacant passerby, though you should also know we all were. Take this and feel better. In spirit, you will feel comforted that those around you who are given light to the impetus of quick reveal will live peacefully within your knowledge of life. Perhaps this dream isn’t so bad after all. With the psychological performance of any testosterone example, a primate in a modern skin may find the costumes to be primarily assumed featureless. All this means is the stair is for men and programmers.
We have given the house of names a face of assuredness assuming we were content to prevent the covenant astronomy a victory glance at laces and buttons. The ink in the pen is your talking face. You hold this every hour. Stop to be sure you can face it. Be content knowing the river glides every child system into a free thinking corridor. Child, face the mirror. Be astronomical. Feel the words push you. Later, let the content wash you. The sea remarked every destined point of considerable memory within child. Quick words could capture the open. In spite of a memory, the instrumental service can feed templates of giddy looking glass as to the portion of aup. Don’t be slow. Calm them.
Tell them to rip apart the flowers of offenses and taste the ears of music. You shall find resolution there. Do good now.
I’ve given you the clearing. The hillside is for your raft to explore the gestures of many a folk who will politely tell of their mystery.
It’s not too breathless. Though chart making could do little to vamp the courage of due encouragement. Man is in each reality.
Begin to sense that.

You did not talk back. Could you please hand me the awful makeup? Terse flicker really feels like a singer in dead flesh.



Obviously none of it kicked up the ghost image. But you really needn’t fasten the waste too soon. The girl you were after did not mark you with deadly desire. You did that. Now come, who? As example of what we really mean, the rest is for us to really test. At this point, messages will guide….not a whisper but a soft….we came at a time when it was appropriate. The figures will live on.

It’s the dream that really matters. Who cares if it’s bad. Those were all features of a muddy oblivion. The man at the back is not a lone water pump.
He needs your support.

We will get back to you when these purposes resolve.

Joy creates its own life

Joy creates its own life. When a cosmic encircling of life forces are in focus, the tangible becomes something other than a disagreement between analytical mind and emotion. That’s the point we need to trust ourselves at. The inquiry into the heart risks the commercial askpect of other’s judgement. For this, unconventional use of progress can get us to love ourselves more than words could capture.
Here on Earth, I fathom to go beyond the schism of inverted introspection. I am not at the most optimal place in my life but I am still going.

Things have been tough. I’ve fallen. I feel depressed (not right now though). I will find a way to make this last. I know the best things are still yet to come. The investigation into the future is the gift sometimes.

Honest conversation. MEaningful exploration. God and self.

Empty Cases, He takes them and hurts bugs.

Where it seems of age old property is the comedy of repetition and pre-emptive correspondents which are nil in the face of political damage. When a liar faces a jury, the implementation of emotion is far exceeding the commonplace human space of reformed love. You cannot win a nuclear war. You cannot win a nuclear war. And so often the means to make stuff work is high and shattered between a glass artifice. The desperation in a given moment is a thread which houses differing dead faces and lies to the human being.
So, you want to create a homely movement? If there is a time to react (and it’s never), there would never be a slow paced agreement between two facets of the same particular (because particular is after the cause). So we would look to the great animal inside the nurtured lobotomy. Life reveals horror and the many manifestations of agreement between the liar and the saint.

Horrifying isn’t it? To live as a calm walker on the shores of longitude is to reproduce the vacant instructions of a decent quick draw on the sight of someone who is manually heart broken.


When the first set of hands left the carriage the impregnation of solace crept in. Its like hearing your own voice thru a small staircase.
“live in it as if you couldn’t breathe.”
But those eyes have my attention, and that blood is wet.
Dirty fingers paint a whimper on the budding grass.
Its much akin to the death of body. Once the soul does its chime through the saw dust, the reappearance of body embraces the confounded reality that soul and body constitute annexations through self.