| It's been some time since I've visited this website.
I'm curious as to who's still around here.
If you read this lemme know.
Oh yeah... I looked at my old posts...
terrible.
The man I am now does not think highly of the man I was.
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It crashes into my chest and carries me up;
the awe that suddenly swooped through the cieling.
Here I am, dawning a distant expression and delighting in the dandylion days.
I follow the offwhite, feathery flower; floating forevers away from the frolick.
Smiling softly at seeds that sail slowly, and the growing nostalgia sentiments surrounded by sentiant
seraphims involving no sentences.
I was once aware of them...
barely now, but it was better before the world went and washed itself of the wide eyed wonder
water and tainted the timelessness with telepathic teardrop testimonies.
Still...
I remain motionless and monumentally I've mastered my own meandering so the memory of the morrow
will feel more or less like I was meant for more.
Unless...
north is the same as the south if the noise would knock off its nitpicking.
Now...
the time came and we carried it in carriages back through the gates.
This is everything entirely.
All wrapped up in that "carried away" feeling you get when you begin, with trepidation and
invigoration, to abandon limitation and imagine impossible instances of improbable love
again.
Timid zen.
Within it is a key.
A light and a vulnerability.
Uncleansed and unashamed of underwater 'other side' utterances.
Energy.
I am as whole as the Universe with no need for the dark side of sympathy.
Come exist with me.
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| I'm tired.
very tired.
questions took over my paradigm and now this is difficult.
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oh the brilliant shanannagins, now pick up those toys!
facets of light throw themselves at the outsiders perspective.
The love in my smile is everywhere.
I am a lyric bieng sung out from the mouth of Love Himself.
Allmighty infinity in my eyes and so far beyond.
Now brilliance is my only manifest anything, and consciousness seems secondary to the sevenfold circumstance of the I Am.
Rush in with new colors coming out of the crescent moon.
The eye swallows the iris, and it's making circles in the drifting mind.
Spotless breese passes through transient whispering fire child's imaginative exploration game.
Glorybaby's Holiday.
existant
Internal.
opening up the pulsing hallelujahs like clashing cymbols with just a little more love.
Thoughts
are scattered like toys thrown on the ground and all around are answers
to mysteries left sitting locked next to the keys.
Open me and dream.
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| Silent retreat this weekend. Fasting and praying and not talking. I hear these are pretty cool.
So what music has everyone been l;istening to lately? I've been all about Imogen Heap and Three Mile Pilot lately. You guys?
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