My apologies to you madam
For it seems to me I am lacklustre again
Of course you did not marry me
And yet you are here now -
As if we are in love!


I have asked of you nothing
But STILL you take via your very presence
And the other past love rapists growing
Backwards around me
Including in their so called gangster dialogue


But always in information moving forward
And, therein lies the worry,
boy do they know how to act.
That

A prophecy isn't something that necessarily won't happen if noone acts on it
Particularly the prophet making the prophecy.
Prophets are mystics,
Yet they give in so easy to the sincerity and standards of mysticism itself
Or just work blankly for the authorities
That they never make their prophecies come true
Clever prophets work it out on a screen or on paper, whilst engaging in their spiritual and health practices etc etc etc, and then they implement the wisdom they've received from that into a plan.
That
Amen flower,
Amen C.I.A
Peace out "Grandma!"
Sorry you're not allowed to take part human prophets

As trees are set alight
The coridoors confine us to chestnut oak
And Greek symbology becomes irrelevant
As infancy in a tizz.

Many languages
The that conundrum of autism
The ****** of a mother of a saint in
Teenage confidentiality
But also confidence.

The ma in a name given to the self
To get rid of the schizophrenia diagnosis
And supported housing imprisonment,
...Autisma
Ma meaning mother
And as an autistic still quite unsure
Of the meaning of this

But no longer a schizophrenic
There's always the hand that creeps in
To stigmatize the cuticles.

And so as far as what can be deemed fact
So far
Ma means 'more'
Against the alternative meaning of mother.

Amen god, and how I love you.
Hi C.I.A psychiatrists! Okay I'll put it in writing now
Not that I would say in my gut you didn't already know
But my family appear to me as having completely different identities everyday and i was unaware of this until I arrived here. I, frankly, dont see the point in sticking up for myself with them - because it I'm not <i>with</i> them emotionally. Or spiritually. And I'm not too sure what it is I don't understand, but it's a bit like understanding versus overcoming. and yeah, there's a short summary. Save me!

The counter intuitive action consumes the
Thorough blow to the chest
From icy winds -
We flee

Gusts of geranimo stall and cluck
Like fearsome dions
And freakishly or fittingly
The armour is won

A wooly hat, woven from a spider hat
The classlessness has treathed forth
Since the beginning though

And these days it's a matter of
Who catching whom
Or whom catching who

When it should be who catching you

The fixation of brown on toast
Is basically inviting to a host
As the thought insertion perversions
Drawl on and by
I'm through with what could of been the last line
I've lost my focus
And am reliable enough
To have my rights
Out of time music echoes through the device
A triathalon of apparent excellence
That is if we could see it
It never becomes personal
May as well be a tree
Just because you're thinking our loud to me
Does not mean I have to rely on you
And please do not rely on me anymore.
The intellect itself is enough for articulation
It is an epiphany laced with ghosts of fullness
Many times

The plasmic screen at least of course trained us into rebelling against ourselves
And as ineffectual as it is, the technological or constant onslaught of misidentify makes them slaves to not only themselves but us.

This is just my spiritual knowledge
But of course as a human being, none of my experiences regarding the generosity in communication of/from others (as real as they may be) has been very spiritually rewarding.

However, well, this is all I have to say about it.

Let's start vaping in the communal area again shall we?
And smoking *** legally?
And congregating as unique beings?

Or surely the war in ghaza, Israel and the shut that the elite do to people in escape rooms will get worse.

Hell, let's even wake me up from my coma.

May the holy spirit be with you all.

If you choose to see clearly.

Amen chariots of the gods.
Poonanny Lord. Dancing God. Daisies! And rumbrgh woods in that tent, (truely magical until I abandoned it to the insects... I wonder if they were real or not? And if that's changed til I last/first saw my parents as holograms?) now let's break bread god. Or eat some noodles. Or be Parry to the envision of one long basic metaphor. Amen God.

Trouble ensnaring my depths like a fool
To outgrow the cost would be to er on the good
Side of my soul but my heart doesn't say that I should

Rely on my heart then, so easy to say
When it hasn't felt love for the longest time
Without tricks at play

To Garner it's wisdom again would take fire
A blazing picture of past vivid emotion
And, still aflame, in the present sincere.

For what looks upon the restless soul
Is (- to make -)
The heart, and willpower alongside it
Means everything else is stolen art

For true transparency, check the dreams
Of a hundred different sways
That the branches of the trees were doing
On Adam and eves first/last autumn day.