I once wrote to mystify a tale of lifetimes crafted in each night and day. So I pray every night as I live a near-death experience before I sleep, and I wonder is it me or my PTSD?

Souls are precious for the soul-less and mine will never be for sale.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
Whatever might be the vows you've taken, by the morning they'll all lose their meaning because the night is harsh, and we suffer to sleep, and in our agony, the evil entities creep onto us with their mischievous deals.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
My vision's been recalibrated to see every version of what is real, in threads of colors descending, intertwining with my stomach and neck, like a magical key to a world that emanates consciousness in orange and red.

From the brink of death to love and respect, it is all good when I remember, but what can I do when I forget?  

I sleep hoping that the morning will bring back my optimism


Words Of Harfouchism

Back in my village, in the middle of a pine forest, I walk for hours radiating yellow and green until the earth swallows me and spits me out as a mystical bird-like being.

Like a peacock, I spread my shimmering, resonating feathers and bow to the giant raptor in the sky.
I can only be obedient to his emanations.
I fly back to my children, to my nest on a magnificent cedar tree. We entangle our necks and feathers in rapture knowing that soon, the earth shall reclaim my original nature.

By the sea I sit and patiently wait  to remember why I chose to forget.
The wind moves the waters, and the waves cast the sunlight onto my forehead. I feel the heat increasing as my structure dissolves. I gain back consciousness in an aquatic atmosphere taking a turtle-like form with a shell and humanoid hands. I swim down following a series of glares and vibrations until I reach what is seemingly an immense turtle temple. I feel a sudden danger and crawl back into shell. I open up my eyes and find myself sitting by the sea again.

Life is a journey of appreciation.
I can only surrender and be grateful.



Words Of Harfouchism

I am pleased, might finally speak about my witch friend
share with you some of her wits and trends

Masters today desecrate the truth,
meditation and visualization are nothing but outdated tools

Culturally, relatively free i write fearless,
Contemplation overcomes meditation,
Spirituality conqueres religion ,
I formless, will not abide to your anticipations
I renounce my knowledge and education
Transparency , revolution,
Love works,
It has been scientifically proven

We are what we think
Thoughts procure reality
it has been confirmed quantum physically

So what's your excuse?
take control and imagine the best version of YOU

Imagination is the key to reaching everything and beyond


Words Of Harfouchism

THE MYSTERY IN YOUR OBJECTIVES,
YOUR PREFERENCES,

WHO YOU GRANT WHAT AND WHY  INTRIGUES ME

THE LOGIC  BEHIND ENTITLEMENT AND ELIGIBILITY
THE UNNECESSARY SACRIFICES  
THE HOLY AGENDA IN YOUR CHOICES
INTRIGUES ME
 
LIFE IS NOT ALL BEAUTY AND NEITHER ITS CREATOR
YOU NEED EVIL TO BE A SAVIOR

DEVIANT , BENT , SHADY  CLAIMS TO BE DEAF WHEN I SPEAK
I WRITE NOW THAT YOU KNOW HOW TO READ

AND MY WORDS RESONATES TO THE FIFTH DIMENSION
TRIGGERING THE SPIN OF THE WHEEL OF FORTUNES IN MY FAVOR

THE WIND BLOWS , THE WOLF HOWLS , THE SKY CRACKS AND I SMILE
AS THE RAIN FALLS DOWN I REALISE ME AND THE GODS ARE ALIGNED FOR THE FIRST TIME 


Words Of Harfouchism

Alleged linear
Ignoring its devious nature,
Time is homogenous
Conflicting with my behaviour

Allowing ritualized secrets and processes
Personalized by fragments that possesses
The civilized enablers
To protect art in form of divination

Revealing obsequious attempts
To pretend the culture's end
Ignoring our needs,
Promoting that healing isn't real
Inculcating us through a pharmaceutical delight
A treat to numb your mind
And make you believe that magic isn't real.


Words Of Harfouchism.

Sophisticated

Information penetrates in light

Medicated

I no longer believe in your fight

Elevated

Intelligence evolves

Circulated

By conscious thoughts

And a will,
Hard as steal
To divert the fear

Through a creative lens
Expressed in a bleeding pen

Mixed with a salty tear
For the truth to be revealed


Words Of Harfouchism

My words won't sooth you

I've been guided and misguided ,i am out of depth

But let me introduce you to a perceptive a little more complex

On how you view life,

Whatever you may desire, exclude it from lies
Because the truth brings peace of mind

Invest in fellowship.
Sing, dance , imagine, but don't worship,
Unless in bed.

Communicate to the other what you like in ***.

Words Of Harfouchism.

I find myself naked
In front of a mirror
Giving my imaginative speech
To the people



Suddenly i'm in the middle of this river
And the Oracle is looking at me

"Smile child
We are here to feel
Life gets confused at times ,

It's allright
Separation is not real. "

Then why not only happy feelings ? I ask

"The duality of your emotions
generates the spinning required for the matter to manifest

Trust and accept life through your feelings "

Words Of Harfouchism

In this dream, that i frequently dream
A tribe of woman Stepping in the pool of creation

Under the radiant moonbeam
my consious mind is absent
I am the imagination

Under the moonlight
the woman's tribe act as one
Dancing
At the pool of creation, witnessed by none
Chanting

Revealing the secret of womanifesting

Are you alone? Womanifest

From the source,
By light and dust
My love is created
In sacrifice and blood

Words Of Harfouchism

I am unknown, still alone.
Experiencing on my own.

No witnesses to validate
My involvement or the weight
Of the choices i've made
Trying to liberate my spirits
With my patterned habits
Only to understand
That i am digging my end
With my crooked tangled hands

But still

My fears and
feelings they tend to vary
And my mind keep changing its mind.

So now i just smile and carry on
Leaving all my worries behind

No one likes to deal with the the unknown
Someone must be manifesting
Because i can't explain my preferences
Disowned , unresting
I have to believe an omniscent is guiding me
So i can truly rest in peace
I don't believe in responsibilities.

Writing is the only way to fruit this fear.

Words Of Harfouchism

My formless fear has its cycles
And it lives within me like a shadow
My formless fear is a desire
If it was a bird it would be a crow

My perception shifts.

Knwoledge is a trap , so is the art to percieve
And to manipulate fate living by " evrything is written" as a philosophy

My choices aren't mine , i am just a tool
My vision shifts , so does the true truth

My allies are intangible , though i am objectively measurable
A fair creator would only discard such a rebel

Everything happens for a reason , i trust life fully
But i dont want to take responsibilty.

I am just a tool everything is written
I exist through a knwoldge that is hidden

I trust life as i see and understand
My formless fear takes form as a pen in my hand

After all the writer was only a man.


Words Of Harfouchism