here
here where liberation takes it rightful in place of the grasp that one held you, all the ways of the world you hated you do hate, and the only thing reminding you of the tradition is a shread of possibility of guilt, a thread slowly unraveling, and how we build our shelter to protect us from the very fresh air we keep gasping and gasping for, after a while the cancer you line your pipes with cut off the circulation, and then the motions is just a clot a congestion, sure you meet the folks who can't wrap their minds around, it's cause the lenth of their mind is very short, and you say 'what miss this? no thanks i'm think i'll just skip on out'