For who can say life is not but a dream.
When you sleep does your mind often know that you're not awake?
Something that your brain can't distinguish between,
is it reality or dreamlike serene?

For who can say that death is not but a dream.
Free'd from mortal coil, the body may wither but the mind may transcend separated from the body. Time is only conceptualized and regimented. Time is of course intangible. There has only ever been one time, the now everything is happening on one scale, at one time, always.

Empty, like all living beings. composed of nothing.
All that lie behind those thin human shells, and interact as if aesthetics are taken for granted. However, all is perceived and compiled of atoms and molecules, particles. Nothing lies truly there except for perception, look aside of the boundaries and reevaluate the conception.

Living, stagnant cogs of the world with fear of rejection.
Are you a dreamer? there isn't too many of us around anymore.
Life, is a waking dream and you walk down its path, but must challenge it and not give in, therefore life is a walking exam.
Aristotle spoke of knowing something because he knows he knew nothing. I know nothing, we all know nothing, knowledge is found therein.

Faking your way through everything, who's going to call who's bluff. Invisible boundaries, ones greatest enemy must surely be themselves,
for instance all those living their lives painting imaginary walls to lock their dreams in. Told something that isn't just on a daily basis by media no you shouldn't  and no you can't. Hypnosis of the masses, bow down to the monopoly and put priority to the meaningless monetary.

Living lives chained to sheets of paper, always chasing, never ever asking why? do you need that, but will you die? Confused and lost sight of the real. pursuit of Happiness, Knowledge, Creativity, Love, Possibilities of above.

Break out the invisible shackles, leap out from under the internal prison and run, never stop till you reach the top of the mountain and scream. We are free and the time is now, there has never been a greater time to be alive. The world is our oyster lets soar and leap to the pinnacle of our greatness.

We can all achieve our potential, your life on a canvas, paint your masterpiece.

In the wee hours of nothing
We exist as ourselves
Too tired for delusions
Too asleep to lie
Too awake to dream
Unintentionally
We are our unfiltered selves
Content to just be...
In the wee hours

To find the serenity of the motherly womb, to submerge in the fluidity of silence, here one can learn to honor their experience of life as a precise pronouncement of each moment, and sense ALL presence as if it were in suspended animation… One must release, let go and dive into the unknown to seek out undercover, underwater….braced and insulated in its deep protective cocoon. To cross through the boundary of known (air) into unknown (water) one must accept the transmutation of the senses which naturally accentuates and morphs our awareness, mainly allowing one to experience the perception of time not as an intangible lightness but rather as an encompassing heaviness of each moment (the timelessness of the moment).

It is in the stillness of this immaculate silence that one can recognize and revel in this Power so mystifying, The Power of complete fluidic unity, The harmony of moving together as ONE. Here is the revelation revealed and the recognition unquestionable. It is here in this spiritual space where one has truly submitted oneself to honor GOD’s immaculate depths.

Within this acknowledgement one becomes able to appreciate the irrefutable resemblance and likeness of this experience to the unity of the shifting energies expressed in the Ethers that is GOD above. There is no fear of wandering aimlessly as you are now moving with the coherence of the cosmic tides forever. In this rapture one experiences transcendence and drifts profoundly in the Knowingness.

V||§||V
Not to ever come this way, to late, I have
Impulsive quandaries of selfish pleasure
To go from searching to soaring mad
It wasn't had, not to ever come this way again
I lay not so harshly with regret, my actions sought ancient delicacy, potent
Dilute substitute, or lure be lazy, it's amazing how my brain is changing, for the good, I am grateful, if truly Time is able to regress, I confess starting over for the best, lay to rest, I must accept, not to ever come this way again.

                      *°|§«»§|°
Served its purpose, now I know to sever such a sweet piece, grieve my lovely, ***** dust, this I must, keep moving on, forward, let it bury deep beneath, in a tomb, sarcophagi, another life I lived and died.
At least I can say I gave it a try.
Boy, did I.

                 **~°»|{\/}|«°~

Sure, you can take these words and phrases
You can take me wrong
But nothing phases me no more,
I'm stuck inside this song

That whosoever wants me dead,
Well, they can go and try
But I'm held captive by the One
Who holds their very lives.

I stand steadfast, even if I fall
I know He's always with me
So there, there's nothing you can do
That from His love can separate me.

He told me once, and I'll never forget
"If it's a guilt trip you need, then take it
But don't drag me in, as if it's the end,
And remember that life's what you make it."

I've broken that rule, oh, so many times
I've bent and abused it, too
But as long as I remember that I need His help
He loves me, and He's who I come back to.

That's life

Up
All
Night

Wasting away inside

Deep
Deep
Sigh

Wanting to run and hide

Worlds
Collide

As far as I can find

They
All
Lied

At least I even tried

But nothing seems right

'Cause I'm

Up
All
Night.

It's easy to hurt
When all I think of is you
And you aren't mine.

I wear many hats, as it were,
and among my favorites of them
is the one we call "Musician."

As a Musician,
silence is the canvas
upon which I paint;
sounds are the fibers
of which are woven tapestries.

What is played
is just as important, if not moreso,
as what is not played.

Rests, that is to say "silence,"
are very much akin to white paint, or negative space:
so very often totally overlooked, taken for granted, or seen as 'unfinished,'
a lack of command over the medium in question.

Yet, I find much the contrary:
keen use of such negative space
can imply so very much more discipline and expressive control
than gallon upon gallon of paint
can even begin to define.

I guess I'm just avant like that.
If brevity is impossible, you're yet a novice.
(Now, ponder Law)

I love the way you're positive
And always lift me up
I cannot seem to comprehend
The way you're full of love.

I thought we all had our bad days
But you push though all of yours
You smile in so many ways
I love how your hope endures.

You're the best inspiration
That I've met in a long while
So many in your position
Saw joy as out of style.

I'm glad when I'm around you
You mean so much to me—
Everyone would say the same, too
That you're amazing, Bree.

.
     Lord, help my unbelief
     Lord, help me to see
The way You're holding me
     Lord, take away my pride
     Lord, please use my life
To be Your shining light.

     God, I'm trying to be
     Just what you want of me
But it's Your grace I need
     God, I'm striving so hard
     To stop worrying, and start
Letting You be who You are.

     Father, I want to come home
     Father, yes, I know
You'll never leave me on my own
     Father, help me understand
     That Your great plan
Has meaning, and will firmly stand.