Tall Dwarfs
He who obtains has little.
He who scatters has much.
- Lao Tzu
Would I keep these cat's eyes to myself in a soggy soapbox and hide them deep underbrush, or let loose a jetsam of the glassy particles to roll around and see the world. They'd roll and wash, roll and wash in the gasoline rainbows of puddles, causing waves that would rock the boats of ash on its surface; making the ripples of water, the fluctuated airs of a fluttered butterfly. Billowing clouds of these insects would fly straight through, kicking up the dust and resting in birdhouses laid out, made of tangerines and blueberried wood. Moss grows up the Eastern side of the grand scheme, and offers a shady spot for the pandas to roll around in, chewing on their controversy, deciding if they all were truly worth sticking around on this under-developed planet or racing away into their black sky with spots of white trailing behind.
I looked inside of an old book. It told me about something that reminded me of Chapters. For some reason.
So what, so fucking what. Go to the next level, the 3rd level, filled with fiction, computers and the arts. Nothing special, really. I just wish Jones were here, but I couldn't pay for him to come. Try drinking hot spice, 20% off. It's taste better, seeing as my last meal was of suasages. Now everything tastes like sausages.
F...E...R...Z...A? Then a 4, and something like a D...5...T...N.
I've been seeing even more faces lately. I just wish I would re-recieve the card of knowledge for my magic box. Which, if you may, you would take a seat around and take a look inside. Were you staring so, see the ballroom dancing of candlelights in great patriot attire rendered questionable by red sashes. Are you with the table of lovable cats, or turned into a cactus and left to stand idly by. Were I knowing, I would be loving. Were I loving, I would be understanding. And, were I understanding, I would be knowing. Mean what you say, and say what you mean. I try to.
As I've stood and sifted into something sticky, I've stayed there for some time. So I swam in syrup, unseen. So, Socrates would've said the same sentence, structured on silence and samsara, sickness and shine. Singing something sweet in slow serpents of songs, slithering slyly on secret sights. It striaghtens the spine. It surprises the sight. It soothes the soul. On the sea, San Tropez.
I have been missing. Too many dieas have been going through my head, or too few, for me to come up with something sparky. Sorry. No more letter S.
So long.
QUESTION OF THE DAY: If you could be a member of any club or assosciation in the world, which would it be?
He who scatters has much.
- Lao Tzu
Would I keep these cat's eyes to myself in a soggy soapbox and hide them deep underbrush, or let loose a jetsam of the glassy particles to roll around and see the world. They'd roll and wash, roll and wash in the gasoline rainbows of puddles, causing waves that would rock the boats of ash on its surface; making the ripples of water, the fluctuated airs of a fluttered butterfly. Billowing clouds of these insects would fly straight through, kicking up the dust and resting in birdhouses laid out, made of tangerines and blueberried wood. Moss grows up the Eastern side of the grand scheme, and offers a shady spot for the pandas to roll around in, chewing on their controversy, deciding if they all were truly worth sticking around on this under-developed planet or racing away into their black sky with spots of white trailing behind.
I looked inside of an old book. It told me about something that reminded me of Chapters. For some reason.
So what, so fucking what. Go to the next level, the 3rd level, filled with fiction, computers and the arts. Nothing special, really. I just wish Jones were here, but I couldn't pay for him to come. Try drinking hot spice, 20% off. It's taste better, seeing as my last meal was of suasages. Now everything tastes like sausages.
F...E...R...Z...A? Then a 4, and something like a D...5...T...N.
I've been seeing even more faces lately. I just wish I would re-recieve the card of knowledge for my magic box. Which, if you may, you would take a seat around and take a look inside. Were you staring so, see the ballroom dancing of candlelights in great patriot attire rendered questionable by red sashes. Are you with the table of lovable cats, or turned into a cactus and left to stand idly by. Were I knowing, I would be loving. Were I loving, I would be understanding. And, were I understanding, I would be knowing. Mean what you say, and say what you mean. I try to.
As I've stood and sifted into something sticky, I've stayed there for some time. So I swam in syrup, unseen. So, Socrates would've said the same sentence, structured on silence and samsara, sickness and shine. Singing something sweet in slow serpents of songs, slithering slyly on secret sights. It striaghtens the spine. It surprises the sight. It soothes the soul. On the sea, San Tropez.
I have been missing. Too many dieas have been going through my head, or too few, for me to come up with something sparky. Sorry. No more letter S.
So long.
QUESTION OF THE DAY: If you could be a member of any club or assosciation in the world, which would it be?