When he was picked on by the teacher for his words of truth, he didn’t lash out violently, he just said FUCK louder to show his frustration with the conditioned people; rather than kill them. Fuck, he’s in control of his fucking emotions. Be more like little fucking Johnny. In control of your emotions.
You are nothing more than the most intricate flower; grown in the tube of you. Behind your mid point, you were born, unfolding into the womb, life sparked. Stretching, your branches, that now reach above and below. Extending out from your own psychological “center,” something new. This is where the projection comes in. What kind
Saves themselves; then goes back for everyone else. Not all saviors will look the same.
notes bounce and fade quiet seemingly life floats away clouds dance embraced
She came, I saw; as we alone cried goodbye
memories drown pain washed away in what was old new begins again
The sun shines Happiness evolves leaving only loss
We live and we die Sometimes not in that order We die and we live
Lest you end up equally sharing the fate of Rome; dying in the belief you could ever reach perfect yourself. Roam… Too lose yourself and evolve into what you were destined to be; only stopped by your ability to interpret yourself. Roam…
Wake up to the dream sleep reality you live in and there’s no need to give up anything at all; except your entire understanding of self. Welcome to interstellar space travel, aka astral travel. Basically, time is on a figure eight loop, black hole feeds the sun etc. Depending on the core of the person,