I had a great time drinking with friends in the woods tonight under a beautiful sky. Good conversation, good food, good times. It was nice to relax for once.
---------
The performance on Friday went well, and many more to come. I also am reading a book called Sexual Refloxology amongst billions of other books I am reading at the moment, I recomend it.
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unfinished lyrics I wrote to a song I was working on tonight. obvious connection to my more recent journal posts.
Im right where I belong
huddled in the corner
of myself
I am safe here
Nobody can touch me
Nobody can hurt me here
Like you did
in the past
where I stay
huddled in this dark corner
of the past
while my soul
remains
in the light
what am I holding on to?
please, wont somebody help me?
and prove me right.
people are so complex
and filled with mystery
and regret
STAY AWAY
from me
huddled in this corner
unrognizable
to myself
I am safe here
right where I belong
noone can hurt me
noone can touch me
here
like you did
---------
I open the journal and wince at the influx of grey feathered with pink. I type. I try to express. Words so eloquent. So hideous. So benevolant. So dead. So grand. So true. So false.
I have felt deeply, limbs turned to clouds of feeling. Thoughts churn and the clouds marry feeling to create form. I sit and watch tv and deny the feelings of knowing I should be doing something more relevant to my soul. I tune into them, and then turn my attention to hours of images and scenes and lifetimes and acting. Its just tv.
Avoiding.
Feelings. Presence is like a tranmuting flame. Presence is a light. Acceptance. Dynamic change.
I imagine as if it already is, I condense into density, and get high of the quick rebound into clouds of life, what drugees dream of. A rebound away from my goal. Oh, the escape. Childish man who leaves his duties, his dreams, his self, his self, his self in the dark. Presence is a light. Ive left myself in the dark. Another second. Another minute. Another hour. Another weekend. Another month. Another year. Another life. Just one more century. Just one more universe. Of death and decay. Of death and decay. A prayer. Ask. All around you. Acceptance. Presence is a light, a transmuting flame. I AM.
---------
The performance on Friday went well, and many more to come. I also am reading a book called Sexual Refloxology amongst billions of other books I am reading at the moment, I recomend it.
---------
unfinished lyrics I wrote to a song I was working on tonight. obvious connection to my more recent journal posts.
Im right where I belong
huddled in the corner
of myself
I am safe here
Nobody can touch me
Nobody can hurt me here
Like you did
in the past
where I stay
huddled in this dark corner
of the past
while my soul
remains
in the light
what am I holding on to?
please, wont somebody help me?
and prove me right.
people are so complex
and filled with mystery
and regret
STAY AWAY
from me
huddled in this corner
unrognizable
to myself
I am safe here
right where I belong
noone can hurt me
noone can touch me
here
like you did
---------
I open the journal and wince at the influx of grey feathered with pink. I type. I try to express. Words so eloquent. So hideous. So benevolant. So dead. So grand. So true. So false.
I have felt deeply, limbs turned to clouds of feeling. Thoughts churn and the clouds marry feeling to create form. I sit and watch tv and deny the feelings of knowing I should be doing something more relevant to my soul. I tune into them, and then turn my attention to hours of images and scenes and lifetimes and acting. Its just tv.
Avoiding.
Feelings. Presence is like a tranmuting flame. Presence is a light. Acceptance. Dynamic change.
I imagine as if it already is, I condense into density, and get high of the quick rebound into clouds of life, what drugees dream of. A rebound away from my goal. Oh, the escape. Childish man who leaves his duties, his dreams, his self, his self, his self in the dark. Presence is a light. Ive left myself in the dark. Another second. Another minute. Another hour. Another weekend. Another month. Another year. Another life. Just one more century. Just one more universe. Of death and decay. Of death and decay. A prayer. Ask. All around you. Acceptance. Presence is a light, a transmuting flame. I AM.
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
That's the response I've been getting.
Or does it just make you wish you could step into a moongate in real life and travel to another more pleasant universe?
Come play!