What can I do if my tongue does not want to stretch. I boil some tea in hopes that it will loosen its tea leaves unfreeze this iceberg of a lengua
I am an ice picker just trying to carve this **** thing but it is stuck and ten Hail Mary don’t warm it up, two miles along the river do little to exercise it; only my feet feel the distance but where in the world is my tongue–daydreaming in my mouth.I drink more tea hoping that it will be jolted awake by the unbearable heat of my pu’er tea like a woman who feel asleep at the sauna reddened not only by embarrassment but by the sheer heat.

My Mithra

After your prayers, become a person, bit better

By doing this you will definitely become a trendsetter.

Throw away anger, meanness, jealousy, ego n pride

See and ascertain that because of your behavior, no one has cried.

Armin Dutia Motashaw

Time became stale
when people who ruled it
passed away.

It is winter time now...
Daylight savings time is over...
The clock fell back one hour...
But time does not stop...
Time does not know of summer or winter hours...
Time just runs...
Endlessly...
The clock can fall back...
But we can't...
We are guests in the infinite river of time...
And we sail in its waters...
Every second gives us the chance to be happier than the second before...
Don't think of time...
Think of happiness...
Life should not be measured in time...
But in happiness...
Never let your soul fall back...
Leave that to the clocks...
As for time...
Just remember the times when you are happy...
Time makes no sense when we are not happy...
I wish, my dear reader, a happy voyage in the  endless river of time...

This life, is, a, tough ride,
If you wanna go,you decide

What nonchalant carnage did you leave
To rot on my skin?
Rub and rub, I rub in vain.
A cling so sure
Like birthed for me

Seep then in the rhizoids deep
Sack, sack the village to stream

To river to smoke

As sea, as sea, and only so, I see

You, the circus balanced on the lashes of your feats,
hues yours
Binding, blinding their hiss and shine
Trembling a string I
Spit and spit naught but I

Full to brim, this yonder of mine
Full and choking, homesick a home
Dry and dust— the blossoms of mine

Burn and burst of bone and beast
All onto the beach, bloodless, breathes

And I cannot even— I dare not even
Wash it away—

Much of life is spent zigzagging through thoughts.