Affinity is the Subpenis Touch of Birth
When you really like something, that is that feeling of you being so like it that you are responsible for it in some way. You are a part of it.
May these lately breaths find you ready to accept a totally new direction in life, find some music that will stay with you for years to come,
there are many things you will not say. But in your nightlit joy, when the order of life takes after the stars and is infinite, not pre-arranged, most effulgent and essential to consciousness...
I am the same. Not ordered, but you can find crab men in my thoughts. I like the beauty of going adrift, and in the mind that means going adrift from all topics.
And the efforts of our consciousness are some friction against or backwash of entropy. Making lights hot again, scouring up light particles.
Can you BELIEVE how quickly we still get items in the mail? That can hardly go on forever!
I am still going on forever. Strong but light! This story the dragon made me think... the hair agronomy bestirs me, from my resting bowl. Cold air rushes, riding me like like I was balance-beam ramps that bend and need to lie down at night. I ate to rebuild these ramps, and so I was like a cluster of roots that fed nutrients out into the empty air.
But it wasn't empty! A tiny monkey drove every molecule. France entered every war as the winner, and came out as the irreverent stock boy, admitting his miniature victories on the slippery backflesh of commerce.
Vittori! Tambanca tessa si! Mi time is for cockteil, chimon. I know the night. I know the grass there. I know the plumes of darkness between the moonlit stalks is a joke. I do not indulge its humor, as the moon folds its eye in a repetitive but crumbling, all-cowering errand. Do you not fall asleep from the stress of its beauty?
The moon reaches over the floor in this room, tonight the moon smoulders red and disappears into a sanctuary where it can fulfill predictions, answer our brains and turn off the conscious lives of anyone who ignores... or gets hanged for crimes while they liked the songs of robins... that would be a no-dish, no-stack form of Great Body Time.............
May these lately breaths find you ready to accept a totally new direction in life, find some music that will stay with you for years to come,
there are many things you will not say. But in your nightlit joy, when the order of life takes after the stars and is infinite, not pre-arranged, most effulgent and essential to consciousness...
I am the same. Not ordered, but you can find crab men in my thoughts. I like the beauty of going adrift, and in the mind that means going adrift from all topics.
And the efforts of our consciousness are some friction against or backwash of entropy. Making lights hot again, scouring up light particles.
Can you BELIEVE how quickly we still get items in the mail? That can hardly go on forever!
I am still going on forever. Strong but light! This story the dragon made me think... the hair agronomy bestirs me, from my resting bowl. Cold air rushes, riding me like like I was balance-beam ramps that bend and need to lie down at night. I ate to rebuild these ramps, and so I was like a cluster of roots that fed nutrients out into the empty air.
But it wasn't empty! A tiny monkey drove every molecule. France entered every war as the winner, and came out as the irreverent stock boy, admitting his miniature victories on the slippery backflesh of commerce.
Vittori! Tambanca tessa si! Mi time is for cockteil, chimon. I know the night. I know the grass there. I know the plumes of darkness between the moonlit stalks is a joke. I do not indulge its humor, as the moon folds its eye in a repetitive but crumbling, all-cowering errand. Do you not fall asleep from the stress of its beauty?
The moon reaches over the floor in this room, tonight the moon smoulders red and disappears into a sanctuary where it can fulfill predictions, answer our brains and turn off the conscious lives of anyone who ignores... or gets hanged for crimes while they liked the songs of robins... that would be a no-dish, no-stack form of Great Body Time.............