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.

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holding onto nothing

Death dream, death meditation.

however you want to describe it, holding onto toxic nothing is a silhouette of what toxic nothingness is like. I’m getting more certain, things seem abstract and the morsels are lost to the daydream.

Just in case I lose sleep over trauma, I will write a theory.

Multi dimensional efficacies exist and the god Devine are pushing pills down my throat. They fear just as I do. The shapes in the architecture is of no immediate importance. While the old and timely mannerisms speak out loud to the dead and uneasy, few remissions can be given to the bearer of quietude. This is a statue, say the thinker. Actually, its a temple. As the string strands of isolation exist, volition must consider the personal abstract.

With most theories, this one is a morning lecture type. I’ve been on numbing psych meds for years. Becoming one’s true self in the midst of this is weird. Because I tell this story from the protagonist lens, it makes living with something as a label a miracle of adventure to point out the obvious scrutiny and pure heart. Everything I see is a shadow. Suffering is prevalent among the beings who dishonor their honesty.

In a replicated way, I see my version of the Way as yielding enough life like care in the world to honor wellbeing and liberation.

I could really dismiss a lot of stuff these days, but, when would it matter if I didn’t care?

fathomable breakfast

Not much has been accepted since our last prank call.  You assume I exist under the cue of oppression.  I give to you my bleakest expression of why I am existing.  But for you it may be a bone you’ll grow used to.  Strata may upheave deprivation.  You could calculate some information.  I have the better synopsis for you, even though I don’t.

That’s just but small work.